


The Bachelor: Tony Stark Edition

by soaracrossthesky



Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), Doctor Strange (2016), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Based on a Tumblr Post, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack Treated Seriously, Everybody loves Tony Stark, Everybody wants to get into Tony's pants, Fluff and Humor, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I have only the vaguest of ideas how the bachelor works, I said I didn't want to do angst here (or at least not much) and yet here we are, Jude Law cameo because why tf not, M/M, Making this up as I go along, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow To Update, Tony Stark Feels, references to pop culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 05:11:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 46,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14585688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soaracrossthesky/pseuds/soaracrossthesky
Summary: “Welcome to Malibu, city of the rich and beautiful. Welcome to a very special treat, dear viewers. Welcome to this year’s incredible season ofThe Bachelor, a real treat with a beloved celebrity trying to find the one person for them in our show’s one-seasonTony Stark Edition! I am Zoe Calliero and today I am granting you an exclusive first look at the hot new location where a very special group of people will fight for the attention and interest of the world’s most famous genius, billionaire, playboy and philanthropist superhero. After saving the world with the Avengers, Iron Man’s alter ego had surprised everyone with his announcement of downshifting his participation in the world-saving business in favor of concentrating on his private life. Will our help be what he needs to find Mister Right? Yes, you heard right, we have an exclusive all-male cast participating, but I am not allowed to say more just yet. The surprise will be even bigger when the contestants are officially announced, believe me. Now, come along for a first view at Tony Stark’s bachelor Malibu house.”





	1. Exclusive Preview

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cptxrogers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cptxrogers/gifts).



> My hand slipped......
> 
> http://cptxrogers.tumblr.com/post/173705001864/cptxrogers-cptxrogers-avengers-infinity-war#notes
> 
> Please don't expect regular or fast updates.

A long, wide environment shot shows the skyline of a city. Accentuated with upbeat music, the sun rises above the sea in the background. The camera pans over a couple of luxurious mansions and beach villas until it focuses on one particularly impressive house which appears to be designed to look very modern with a lot of glass and steel, a large swimming pool at the side despite the closeness to the beach. A hard cut transports the viewer down from the bird perspective onto the ground in front of the gate granting entrance to the premises.

A young woman smiles into the camera with a dazzling but surely bleached smile, contrasted by her tanned skin. She wears a tight dress in a silvery grey color that matches her eyes astoundingly well. In her right hand, she holds a stack of cards but instead of looking at them, she begins talking.

“Welcome to Malibu, city of the rich and beautiful. Welcome to a very special treat, dear viewers. Welcome to this year’s incredible season of _The Bachelor_ , a real treat with a beloved celebrity trying to find the one person for them in our show’s one-season _Tony Stark Edition_! I am Zoe Calliero and today I am granting you an exclusive first look at the hot new location where a very special group of people will fight for the attention and interest of the world’s most famous genius, billionaire, playboy and philanthropist superhero. After saving the world with the Avengers, Iron Man’s alter ego had surprised everyone with his announcement of downshifting his participation in the world-saving business in favor of concentrating on his private life. Will our help be what he needs to find Mister Right? Yes, you heard right, we have an exclusive all-male cast participating, but I am not allowed to say more just yet. The surprise will be even bigger when the contestants are officially announced, believe me. Now, come along for a first view at Tony Stark’s bachelor Malibu house.”

Another cut excludes the walk up to the door and welcomes the viewer into the spacious entrance area with a large mirror on one side of the hall, a coatrack opposing it. A strange device is attached to the wall, looking one part security panel and one part snatched straight out of Star Trek. A small blue light flickers inside the glass panel, but nothing of note happens as the camera moves past it. The next room – the living room – is more of an area, eventually leading over into the kitchen on one side, on the other having a grand glass panel wall with access to the terrace, the pool and the rest of the garden. In the living area, there is not only a spacious couch accompanied by a loveseat and several armchairs and a large TV screen, but also a generously stocked bar, a well-groomed potted ficus, several surprisingly tasteful artwork on the wall and, in a slightly secluded niche, a grand piano. A set of stairs goes up to the first level where a long hallway leads to at least ten bedrooms, a gym and a laboratory. The camera merely passes all the rooms, gaining a peak inside at best. Instead, the balcony is entered, granting the viewer the breathtaking view over the beach and the sea, still reflecting the orange shimmer of the rising sun. After a few moments of actually staying still, the camera begins to move back inside. After another cut the viewers find themselves back downstairs. Voices echo in the background, drawing closer, and the camera points at a small set of stairs, next to an elevator, which both have not really been noticed before. The voiced grow louder and finally some of the words are understandable.

“-already on a tight schedule. I cannot believe you’re trying to get me to shove in even more of that.”

The first voice is male, sounding slightly annoyed, but still recognizable, unmistakable. The replying voice is female, slightly exasperated but tinged with fondness.

“I’m not sure since when you know that much about your own schedule, Tony, but these two additional board meetings won’t kill you. They are important.”

“Fine. Fine, it’s not like I have a choice, anyway.”

Finally, a mop of tousled dark hair, followed by a head full of fiery red locks, emerges from the staircase leading downwards. Tony Stark himself enters the room, his former assistant now CEO Pepper Potts right behind him. She carries a stack of various folders and papers, undoubtedly Stark Industries business. Tony is preoccupied buttoning up his black vest over a crisp white shirt and a wine-red tie. As soon as he notices the filming team, however, he slips into a sleeker kind of behavior, his lips turning into his patented thousand watt smile, shrugging on his jacket and pulling a pair of sunglasses out of his pockets, giving the camera a cheeky wink before putting on the glasses. “Good morning,” he goes to shake the hand of the camera man, the audio man and the hostess of the program.

Tony gives Pepper a questioning look, only identifiable as such by the one raised eyebrow. Pepper glances at her wristwatch and subtly shakes her head before heading towards the hallway. Tony sighs theatrically and slips his hands into his trouser pockets. “I’m afraid we’re in a bit of a hurry right now. Business meetings and all that, you know how it is. Please, take your time filming, my forehead of security will stay with you in case you need anything. If you’d like a small interview for your piece, please call my office and my assistant FRIDAY will look into making an appointment. Sorry, gotta dash.” And with that he rounds the filming crew and leaves his house with Pepper, already talking business again. Zoe the hostess turns to the camera, her smile slightly dazzled, for a moment fumbling for words before regaining her professional attitude. “Well, what an entrance. I don’t think any of us counted on actually meeting Tony himself today. What a treat, right? I can barely wait for the show to start and if you are also anxious for more news on anything Bachelor, follow us on social media and we will keep you up to date with the latest buzz around Tony Stark and his quest for love. The Bachelor: Tony Stark Edition premieres on May 24, at nine p.m. Pacific Standard Time, only here on ABC.”

 

 

* * *

 

@abc_official: Now confirmed: New season The Bachelor featuring @tonystark premieres late May! Tell us what you think! Are you excited? Who will compete for #ironman’s heart? Tell us what you think with #btse

@fierysun681: So even Tony Stark can’t get a date anymore without help? What has the world come to #smh #btse

@clarissa_cole_clarke: Omg Tony Stark on the bachelor! I don’t even care who the contestants are, we get exlusive footage of the man under the armor! #btse #starkbachelor

@establishmess commented: Yo, @peteparker Relevant for your interests?

@peteparker: answer to @establishmess: I’ve literally told you about this yesterday, MJ….........

@establishmess: answer to @peteparker: Can’t afford to remember trash tv info, sorry :/

@celeb_update: NEWS! TONY STARK ENTERS THE BACHELOR! READ ALL ABOUT THE RUMORED CONTESTANTS http://www.celup.com/article/a80dg6...

@mechanickid: Am I really hearing about this here for the first time??? Gotta make a call and verbally whoop some old man ass. Srsly


	2. Episode 1 Part 1 - Introduction of the Contestants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bachelor: Tony Stark Edition premiers. Get introduced to the men who will fight for the heart of the Man of Iron and watch Tony and the contestants meeting for the first time! (Split into two parts because of length.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things first:  
> 1\. I have decided against interactive voting for each episode. It is too difficult to pull off and to implement. But I do read your preferences in the comments and do not disregard them (which is difficult with the wide span of opinions). The decisions, however, will be entirely mine. I simply feel more comfortable this way.  
> 2\. This is not a non-power AU or something alike as you probably already guessed from the prologue. This is meant to take place after some kind of potential post-Avengers 4 unrealistically-happy-ending setting without a clear resolution of the problem. That means yes, the events of the movies sort-of happened. Sort of. I will leave this mostly up to interpretation but I have downwashed some events (more like repress the memory of them - unsuccessfully as you will see) in my mind while outlining the story and writing. I am not someone who will tell others what they should or should not ship but there are ships I simply cannot justify for myself and/or in my writing if I take canon at face value. I try not to let my biases show too much (except for when I use stuff for drama and angst), that's not what this story is meant for. But I still cannot help but let my opinions influence what I'm writing.  
> 3\. I hope we can all agree to focus on the positivity and not start shipping wars in the comments.  
> 4\. There is a real chance your favourite pick for the endgame ship will not happen. Please be aware of that and please don't be too disappointed if your fave does not get a rose. I will hope and would love for you to stay with the story afterwards regardless but I will understand if you will quit reading then. Just please stay nice. This is just a fic at the end of the day.  
> 5\. Obviously, ther's gonna be some OOC behaviour, mostly in relation to everyone condoning and joining this kind of show and sharing personal and emotional gabbage onscreen. I'm sure you can suspend your disbelief on that part. I will try to keep everyone as in-character as I can manage but this is a huge ensemble and I do not have a firm grasp on everyone's personality.  
> 6\. Somehow, in the prologue I went for present tense. Personally, I hate writing in present tense and don't think I'm particularly good at it. I have still decided to keep it for now, especially since I'm trying to go for an actual-cut-of-the-format kind of style without constantly adding "the camera cuts to xy" or "a close-up focuses on yz" and so on except when I deem it necessary. Hard cuts or scene changes are implied by one or two paragraph changes. I might change the writing style in the future, however. As I said, I'm kinda experimenting and I'd appreciate feedback on this matter.  
> 7\. Also concercning the run-of-the-format style. In this chapter, I explicitly mention music pieces being played. That will not continue beyond this chapter if it is a song that would be added in the editing process. I only point them out here because I have in my head which song is used to introduce which character. For the curious, I will add the list in the end notes.  
> 8\. This is not beta read. All mistakes are my own.  
> 9\. English is not my first language.  
> 10\. The response for this was overwhelming so far. Thank you everyone for the kudos, bookmarks and comments. I hope you will continue to enjoy my writing.

The sun peeks over the horizon, basking the sky in a beautiful mix of orange, pink and violet, its reflection shimmering on the surface of the distant sea. Tony Stark is standing on the balcony on the second floor of his Malibu house, leaning on the railing, and watches the dawn while a gentle breeze tousles his hair.

“Sometimes even I have a hard time believing what my life has become. Supervillains. Aliens. Magic.” He scoffs in almost dark amusement. “It’s absolutely crazy. But I wouldn’t exchange it for anything in the world. Being Iron Man…will always be the best thing I did with my life.”

 

The atmosphere changes so quickly and harshly from this almost intimate, emotional picture, the scratch of a record disc is as good as audible. Making Tony Stark appear almost soft and relatable is all fine and dandy, but how could any piece of media let the image of the manly man of iron dissipate that easily. A series of short clips plays, layered with upbeat rock music and a voice over from the star of the show himself.

“I design and invent cutting edge technology.”

Tony Stark in all his sharp suit wearing business master glory is looking at a holographic screen, chewing on the end of a pen. He reaches out and marks five of the countless displayed numbers by pulling them closer towards him.

A slim suitcase in his hand, a pair of red tinted sunglasses on his nose, he enters the atrium of Stark Tower, waving good morning to the receptionist, a pretty Latina who returns the greeting with a delighted smile and an inaudible response.

Tony stands on a wide stage, competent and every bit the showman, as he gives a presentation on the new leg prosthesis prototype that had been deemed publishable by the Stark Industries board not even two weeks before the airing date of the Bachelor premiere.

“I would probably describe myself as a live fast, die young kinda guy. Only the die young part didn’t really work out.” The laugh at the end of that sentence sounds light enough to dismiss it as a joke. At least, if you don’t know Tony very well, just like the broad public does.

In several, fast paced clips some of Tony’s sweeter rides are shown, including his silver Audi R8 and the glorious orange Saleen S7. A couple of candid clips back from his wilder partying escapades back in the day are thrown in for good measure. Finally, the montage culminates in a shot of the Iron Man suit assembling around him, encasing him, first in real time, then gradually fading into slow-motion until the helmet snaps the faceplate into place.

“Oh, and occasionally, I save the world.”

 

This time Tony appears in almost casual wear, considering how the public usually sees him dressed. He discarded his suit jacket and tie somewhere and is lounging on a large, anthracite colored settee, one leg crossed over the other, waistcoat unbuttoned as well as the top button of his crisp white shirt. His arm is sprawled over the backrest and he smiles at the camera.

“It’s a weird story how I decided to sign up for _The Bachelor_. I suppose many think I don’t need this. I’m Tony Stark, how hard can it be to meet new people? Well, lemme tell you if they don’t want to introduce you to their masterplan to take over the world or to get a new tech design out of you, it can be surprisingly hard. I own a company, I lead the R &D department, there are weeks when I spend more time in UN conference rooms than in my own bedroom and being an Avenger isn’t exactly a part-time job, either. Especially when some mad titan thinks it’s his job to wipe out half the universe. That was….yeah. I don’t think it can get much worse than that. It was tough and took a lot from all of us. It didn’t make me quit Iron Man, definitely not. I just… I needed a break after everything. So this is me taking a break. And maybe I will find someone special along the way. I hope some of the contestants can keep up with me. I’m a fast-paced man with a fast-paced life and I need someone who can handle that. It’s not like I’m going to drop into retirement after this. I mean can you imagine?” He trails off, mirth dancing in his eyes after it dimmed in the middle of his monologue, and he laughs at the thought of him as a pensioner.

Tony is arms deep in a project – not literally arms deep since it is not a car engine and whatever said project will end up being, it requires filigree tools and safety goggles. Some kind of robotic arm is holding a toolbox on the height of Tony’s elbow, emitting a soft whirring noise.

“This is certainly nothing I’ve ever done before.”

Tony is standing in the kitchen, cradling a cup of coffee which displays the stylized A which changed from widely acknowledged as STARK brand to universally known as ‘ _The Avengers_ ’ long ago, and watches the Vision stir a pan full of scrambled eggs. In the background, someone with a mop of brown hair is setting the table.

“And I’m honestly not sure what expect from it.”

Tony’s bedroom is spacious and well lit. The panorama window grants a breathtaking view but Tony is focused on his reflection in the mirror, carefully twisting the cufflink on his left sleeve until it sits just right. Then he readjusts the black bowtie around his neck. He chose a classic tuxedo for the welcoming ceremony to get to know the contestants. Nothing extravagant but it oozes class and he knows exactly how well he can pull off this look. Besides, it is somewhat the contestants’ job to dress to impress on the first night anyway, isn’t it?

“But I’m very excited to find out.”

 

 

Vision is standing on the terrace next to the pool, wearing a burgundy tailored suit that matches perfectly with his cape which is falling from his shoulders in a constant, not weather-induced ripple. He has his hands clasped in front of his body and he looks slightly uncomfortable. Whether that stems from the cameras pointing at him or from the premises of the show itself is anybody’s guess. He clears his throat and glances to the side where Happy and Pepper are quietly conversing with the crew members responsible for timing the arrival of the cars carrying the contestants. They don’t look…well, happy, but also not upset on a level that would raise any concerns. Before he can ponder on their feelings about this whole event any further, a call from the director demands Vision’s attention and the synthezoid concentrates on his job in this set-up again. A yell directed at other staff members and a thumbs-up aimed at him prompts Vision to verbalize the introduction he was tasked with.

“Welcome to the new season of The Bachelor. This year’s motto is better, faster, stronger as the man whose heart is going to be fought for is no one but America’s favorite human national treasure, the one and only Tony Stark. The high caliber and celebrity of our bachelor has caused the producers to adjust the show’s perimeters accordingly. The rules are mostly still the same but some drastic changes have been made. The number of contestants has been reduced to a total of ten people. As such, every contestant will be introduced in length. To make up for the significantly lower number, only one person will be eliminated each week. Eliminated from the show, that is, of course, as anything else would be disturbing and terrifying. Everyone will be living in this stunning house for the duration of the show, including Mister Stark as this is indeed his own house. The contestants already know the identity of the bachelor since picking them was a long-winded and scrutinized process. But who are the men that will be trying to melt the heart of the man who is said to be made of iron? Who will attempt to pierce the armor and get to the man beneath? Please enjoy a first look at the contestants.”

 

A rhythmical electronic melody sets in as a blond man wearing a red leather jacket walks down the ramp of what looks very much like a spaceship. His smirk is cocky and there is a self-assured swagger to his hips that certainly makes a lot of viewers hum in appreciation.

Sitting on a chair, facing the camera for a close-up makes his roguishly handsome features stand out even more. The smirk is replaced with an earnest friendly smile and the fingers of his right hand are tapping against his leg constantly.

_Peter Q. (42) – “Legendary outlaw”, Galactic guardian_

“My name is Peter, although you might have heard of me as Star Lord. I’m a legendary outlaw who has been to the end of the galaxy and I’m really looking forward to show Tony that a guy from space is way better than any lame dude from Terra could ever be.”

The smile morphs into a full-blown smirk again and he winks at the camera.

Inside the Milano, the Guardians are chilling in the cockpit, Groot is playing on his handheld, Drax and Gamora are polishing their blades and Rocket is tinkering on some kind of giant gun. Peter is leaning against the wall, his arms loosely crossed, and watches his family with obvious fondness. After a moment, Rocket tosses the wrench over his shoulder and hits Peter in the face with it. The pained cussing that ensues is censored.

Peter is wearing a pair of ear buds which are plugged into a positively antiquated looking music player. His eyes are closed, a look of joyful bliss rests on his features and he pulls off some of the most ridiculous dance moves in existence.

“I think my selective caring is a very strong plus point in my favor. I can decide what’s worth caring about and what’s not and if it’s not, I won’t let it bother me. People are so often so hung up about things they can’t change anyway but that are still dragging them down. I don’t need that. What’s the use in that if you can have fun? I’m able to show Tony one hell of a good time and I’m sure he will appreciate that.”

Peter is doing a couple of trick shots with his laser pistols. He meets his targets – bottles, rocks, some makeshift clay pigeons – without fail. With each hit his smile grows and he does little victory dances after particularly difficult ones. The last target is a large pink papier-mâché heart. The bolt of energy tears it apart and a shower of glittering ribbons shower down from within as Peter winks again.

 

As the music changes abruptly to a meditative, calm melody, the curly hair of a pale man is pressed against a mattress as he is lost in a yoga pose with a flexibility that belies his outer appearance. His eyes are closed, his face is slack in peaceful relaxation, his breathing slow and controlled. With well-measured movements, he lowers his legs onto the ground and lifts his shoulders from the mattress.

For the interview, Bruce Banner is no longer wearing sports clothes but his signature purple shirt and he busies his hands with playing with his reading glasses. He flashes a small, shy smile and obviously doesn’t really know what to look at. The focus and attention make him visibly nervous but he swallows down the lump in his throat and begins talking.

_Bruce B. (42) – Scientist, Owner of 7 PhDs_

“My name is Bruce. I’m a studied biochemist among other things. By now, I can safely say that Tony and I go way back. We have worked together intimately for several years, shared a lab for all of them. I have always admired his mind. He is a delight to work with and I’m curious to see how compatible we are outside of work.”

Bruce is clad in rather wrecked street clothes, a backpack slung over his shoulder. He stands at a bus stop somewhere on a country road, reading the sign to figure out which bus he hypothetically would have to take if this wasn’t a scripted moment.

Bruce is standing in a kitchen, filling rice into a red bowl with golden accents. It is part of the official Avengers merchandise line, the Iron Man edition. Next to it are a blue-red-and-white plate full of vegetables and a green mug in the form of a Hulk fist. He grins into the camera somewhat sheepishly but he is still delighted to show off his merch. As he continues to serve the curry he just cooked, he continues to chat.

“Sure, Tony might not be the easiest person to handle. But neither am I. And we have been friends long enough for me to know a thing or two about him. Yeah, friends.”

Someone on the other side of the camera says something unintelligible. Bruce frowns slightly and his grip on the bowl tightens. “No. No,” he dissolves into babbling, “I wouldn’t say ‘friendzone’. Tony and I are in a…comfortable zone of friendship. That’s all.”

Bruce shrugs on a lab coat, his glasses now firmly perched on the top of his nose.

The experiment they have him conduct is laughable. It’s something sophomores might do in their chemistry class in college, but Bruce doesn’t let that phase him. They want something that looks sciency without just pouring over statistics but is also not restricted to handling analysis machines; they want him to actively conduct an experiment.  Thus, he mixes together the chemicals in an Erlenmeyer flask, an unlit Bunsen burner standing nearby. It all looks professional enough to the amateur eye and even has a somewhat visibly impressive reaction when the polyurethane starts growing until it spills over.

“But I think there has always been this spark of a maybe more between us. And I really hope it will get ignited in these following weeks.”

 

Swinging jazz takes over the background music as a man with one metal arm is doing pullups. A ratty grey shirt stained with sweat clings to his chest, his long hair is pulled back into a messy bun with strands falling out. His eyes are unfocused, staring off into the distance while he goes through his exercise.

For his introductory interview, he is wearing a dark hoodie and washed out blue jeans, his hair is now freely falling from his head, framing his face in a somewhat unkempt mane.

_James B. (33) – World War II Veteran. Yes, seriously._

The formerly distant look is gone in favor of an earnest smile, his eyes glittering with curious attention.

“I’m James. But everybody just calls me Bucky. I’ve spent a lot of the past years out of touch with most of the world. You could say I was on ice.” His lips twitch like at an obvious joke nobody else can pick up on. “And what I did witness was crazy. But I also got to know some really swell people. Of course, there’s Stevie. I’ve known that little punk since we’ve been kids.”

Bucky is crouched over an acoustic guitar, plucking at the strings. He looks almost peaceful, his eyes half closed as he gets lost in the music.

“And I also met Tony. Briefly. It…didn’t go over too well. There’s – well, there’s history between us and things did not go the ideal way.  But…I mean, have you seen him? He’s a dish.” A wistful sigh escapes Bucky. “And…if we get some time to really get to know each other I don’t think my past will cause any more problems between us. Tony and I could make it work.”

 

A famous showtune from the forties starts paying and in a gratuitous closeup a round metal shield is traced by the camera. The red, blue and white stands out in vivacious colors as a bulging biceps is revealed above the shield. Said biceps runs up an arm that belongs to a blond beefcake of a man with a breathtaking shoulder to waist ratio. The uniform is needless for identification as the posture and the body itself are more than enough, screaming ‘Captain America’.

Outside of the cowl, Steve Rogers is still absolute eye candy, shirt fitting tight enough to show off his finely toned arms, and the bashful smile on his face as he looks up through his eyelashes gives him an almost boyish charm. It is one of those smiles one simply has to smile at in return, infectious and radiant.

_Steve R. (28) – Formerly Captain America_

He is looking just past the camera, his attention at the person asking him to tell something about himself.

“Hello. Yes, I really am Captain America. Please, just call me Steve.”

Steve, in a surprisingly unpatriotic getup of khakis and a long-sleeved shirt that also fits snugly against his body, is hunched over a small notebook – or at least as hunched as someone with his posture gets – and doodles in it with a pencil.

“Obviously, Tony and I know each other very well. We’ve been teammates since 2012 and friends soon after.”

Steve is shifting his weight from one foot to the other, fists raised, and he works on the punching bag hanging from the ceiling in front of him. His footwork is light and flawless just like his punches. After one particularly hard hit, one piece of the bag’s seam rips and a fine line of sand drips to the ground. Steve huffs and stops his workout, wiping his forehead although no sweat is visible.

Again, Steve is drawing. This time, he is curled up in an armchair, which looks fairly ridiculous with his long limbs. After a couple of moments, he shifts and sits up straight. With a smile, he turns his notebook around, showing a stunningly accurate and talented sketch of the camera man.

“I..Tony…Tony and I…” He trails off with an awkward chuckle and takes a deep breath. “Tony and I pursued a relationship some time ago but it…didn’t…end great.” He clears his throat and shifts on his seat uncomfortably. “Not great at all. But I am going to fix this. I’m going to win him back.” Determination and hope tinge his words as he gives the camera another tentative smile.

 

Another cheesy tune – this time it is a pop song – takes over as a lean man with two shocks of grayish white in his otherwise dark hair is pouring over a book, brows drawn into a slight frown. Without paying much attention to anything beyond the text in front of him, he grabs an apple and takes a bite.

One of the few who do not wear casual clothes for their first interview, he sits down in his blue garments, brown leather gloves firm in places and a red cloak that adds a certain elegance to his appearance with its swishes that defy the laws of physics. The whole appearance gives a somewhat haughty air to the man, whose smug smirk certainly does not diminish that notion in the slightest.

_Stephen S. (38) – Renowned neurosurgeon, Supreme Sorcerer_

“Doctor Stephen Strange,” he introduces himself and inclines his head, “Sorcerer Supreme. You are welcome for saving the world, by the way. My duty and oath are to protect this reality and it is a job I take very seriously.”

Stephen is standing in some sort of dojo, going through a combination of fluid motions, resembling a routine of kung-fu influenced moves. He goes through all of them with practiced ease. As he starts a second round, the air around his hands sizzles with orange sparks and each of his hands becomes encased with arcane patterns hovering in the air. They cannot be described as anything but magic. The conjured force fields move with his hands as Stephen continues through his exercise. The moves deviate from the first set soon, growing more intricate and demanding.

“I met Tony during the Infinity Stone crisis, of course. We did not get off on the best foot but learned to respect and appreciate each other quite soon. I grew rather fond of him and I like to think that he returns that sentiment.”

Stephen and Wong are sitting in the library of Kamar-Taj, each with a steaming cup of tea, the Cloak of Levitation hovering behind Stephen’s seat. The doctor is contemplating his next move in their game of chess and Wong looks at the camera team impressively unimpressed. Finally, Stephen moves one of his knights and takes one opposing rook. Wong looks at the board and huffs before moving his bishop, making Stephen groan in frustration.

“I appreciate the opportunity to pursue a deeper kind of relationship with Tony. I’m the clear choice. Tony will know that, too, as soon as we spend some more time together.”

 

The breathtaking beauty of a Wakandan sunrise gets mixed with a very rhythmic rap. One man stands beneath a large tree, watching nature in a regal stance, hands clasped behind his back, head held high. The fast music stands in stark contrast to the slow moment that holds little to no movement aside from a flock of birds crossing the sky, but in a peculiar way, the combination works.

The royal is clad in a black robe, his back is ramrod straight and his beard neatly trimmed. He does not look particularly comfortable in his seat, but perhaps people of his stand are not meant to sit in a relaxed manner in the presence of anyone.

_T’Challa (34) – African royalty_

“I am T’Challa, King of Wakanda. As such, I have many obligations and little time for indulging in my whims. I am more than grateful and humbled by the amount of works my family and confidants are taking on to make this possible for me. But I simply could not pass this opportunity.”

A sleek, silver car pulls up a driveway with a purring motor and comes to a sharp halt. The driver’s door is opened first and Shuri hops out of the seat. T’Challa follows her soon from the other front-seat, slamming the door shut with more force than strictly necessary. He barks a reprimand at his sister who waves it off. After a moment of stubbornness meeting stubbornness, both siblings break out into laughter and they do a complicated handshake, grinning widely.

T’Challa walks down the throne room, every bit the distinguished picture of the leader of a country. His way is lined by the impressive women that make up the Dora Milaje, all standing at attention and presenting their spears. It is difficult for T’Challa to stay the center of attention among the power the warriors exude, but he continues his way completely unfazed until he reaches the impressive throne and sits down with the elegance only someone raised to fill this role can accomplish.

“Tony Stark has become a trusted ally of mine. I hold him in high regards and I might have a slight infatuation with him. How could one not, to be perfectly candid? It took some poking and prodding from my sister before I agreed to enter this contest but I suppose I should be grateful that she insisted I apply.”

Shuri is lunging through a hallway, cackling like a maniac, T’Challa hot on her tail, yelling in a wordless rage and suddenly looking much more like a disgruntled big brother than like a king. In the background, a giant hologram displays a picture of the black panther crouched in a large cardboard box with the large caption ‘If it fits I sits’ partly above and partly beneath. The yelling and laughing are still echoing from farther away.

“This chance is certainly most welcome. What kind of competition do I have to fear? A doctor, perhaps? That’s cute. Really.”

 

Another elegant figure struts, this time towards the camera, the green robe flowing from the movement and a golden headband with two short horns glittering in the sun. The dignified appearance is underlined with soft piano accords and, soon, a beautiful woman voice crooning on top of the melody.

Despite music playing over the whole ordeal, the tension in the room is palpable as the crew has to face the alien prince who once tried to conquer the planet. The word of his brother and his actions in the fight against Thanos are enough to allow him to walk free, but the public is still mostly cautious and tense towards him. Of course they are, he is an intimidating person when he wants to be. And he wants to be just that most of the time. His face holds a schooled expression of bored arrogance.

_Loki (???) – Prince of Asgard, God of Mischief_

“I am Loki of Asgard, I have come to win Anthony Stark in this competition he has been announced the prize of.”

Loki raises a questioning eyebrow at the person that talked to him. He looks like he wants to reply with a question but apparently thinks better of it and gives a little shrug. “Very well,” he announced, “If you ask for it so desperately.” A bright shimmer surrounds him and suddenly a dozen of copies of Loki appear. The microphones pick up a startled cry from someone behind the camera. All the Lokis grin smugly and cross their arms. “You wanted to see a display of my powers. Don’t ask for something if you dislike the result or learn to deal with it.” Within the bat of an eyelid, all the duplicates vanish and only one Loki remains, however no longer standing where he stood before his trick.

“Ever since I first laid eyes on him I knew he was a particularly singular specimen of a human. My assumptions were confirmed later on and…shall we say, an interest on my side was born. I am a god, not to mention royalty, and as such I can afford to indulge in my whims every now and then. I do not settle for anything but the best.”

Loki is lounging on his armchair as if it were a throne and watches a recording of Hamlet with moderate interest. His head is slightly tilted to the side, the keen attention is visible in his eyes. A deft index finger is stroking over his lips in contemplation. Apparently, he deems the work of the Bard satisfactory.

“And I do not let others claim what I have settled my eyes on already. Tony Stark will become mine and, in the end, he will kneel.” His smile is self-satisfied and his eyes sparkle with a promise that sets nobody in the room at ease.

 

Once more, powerful rock riffs are coupled with the pictures of a metal armor. This one, however, is painted black and grey and is far bulkier than the sleek Iron Man design but its eye slots glow in the same bright blue. The faceplate folds back, the suit opens and a tall, black man steps out. Perhaps it takes people a moment to notice but a quiet mechanical whirring noise continues as he steps forward to shake the hand of the producer.

He wears unassuming dark clothes but something stands out beneath his unusually wide-cut trousers when he moves. Every American who kept up with the news since the so-called Civil War knows what those hidden devices are. Sitting down does not go over as smoothly as it once must have for him but he does not let that deter him. Neither does he ask for help. His attitude is friendly, though, and he gives a jovial smile.

_James R. (52) – US Air Force Colonel, War Machine_

“Perhaps you know me as War Machine. My actual name is James Rhodes. I joined the Air Force to help people and now I can do that as part of something else, too. But there would be no War Machine without Tony Stark. He’s my best friend and so much more. I know Tony longer and better than any other living person. We met as roommates at MIT back when he was a scrawny fifteen-year-old and I still had beautiful full hair.” His chuckle is echoed from most people across the room.

Rhodey and Tony are sitting in the kitchen of the Avengers compound, gossiping about this and that. Vision enters, cradling a tiny ball of fur in his arms. The two men trail off and stare at Vision and his acquisition which turns out to be a kitten upon closer inspection. Vision sets it down on the table for the other two to examine. Very tentatively, Tony extends his hand and pets the kitten. He asks Vision a question which Vision seems unable to answer fully. Unnoticed, Rhodey pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of Tony just as his hand gets licked by the kitten.

One shot has – of course – to be taken where Rhodey wears his full Air Force uniform, silver emblems shining on the dark blue cloth. He snaps to attention for a moment before slowly relaxing again and taking off his cap.

“Oh, sure. Being best friends will definitely be an advantage. And I plan to use it to its full extent. What good is a head start if you let the others catch up anyway?”

Rhodey and Tony are sitting on a couch, chatting animatedly while abusing the buttons on two gaming controllers. A large bowl of popcorn sits between them and every now and then, they eat some. Tony throws his head back and laughs at something the other says. Rhodey grins at the genius in return and throws a piece of popcorn at him. The attempt at a distraction is of no use and Tony scores a point in their game with a triumphant yell. In a burst of victorious glee, he picks up the stray piece of popcorn and flings it right back at Rhodey.

“Tony told me he was coming on this show. And I was like…honey, no. I’m right here. All the man you need. So I decided to sign up as well and win this.”

 

Riffs of an electric guitar welcome the view of an open field. After a moment of nothing happening, a thunder clap rumbles and with bolts of lightning surrounding them, a large figure descends from the sky at an alarming speed, slamming into the ground crouched, one knee bent, one fist down, electricity crackling all over the body, especially the hands and eyes.

It is almost laughable how harmless the man looks in run of the mill clothes like a pair of jeans, a hoodie and a jacket. Buff, yes, larger than life, yes, but he is all smiles and gentle teasing and squeezing shoulders. His chair appears ridiculously small as he sits down on it but it doesn’t even creak. He has started growing out his hair again and it is currently stuck at the awkward length where it starts falling in one’s face but isn’t long enough yet to restrain it with a hair tie.

_Thor Odinson (??) – King of Asgard, God of Thunder, Like a pirate had a baby with an angel_

“At your camera, yes? Very well. I am Thor, son of Odin. I hold a great deal of affection for this world and am looking forward to spending time here without an imminent threat lurking and demanding my shield brothers and sisters and me to fight. I enjoy a good brawl, but even a warrior takes delight in leisure every now and then.”

Thor enters a bar, sits down at a table and loudly orders a beer with a wave of his hand and another wide smile. When the drink is delivered to his seat, he thanks the waitress profoundly and empties the large glass in few gulps, immediately asking for replenishment. After a hard cut, several hours have passed and a group of seven people has amassed itself around Thor’s table, all of them drunk and loudly singing country songs with Thor’s voice booming louder than the others.

Thor is walking through Central Park, his hands stuffed into his pockets. His eyes are almost closed and he enjoys the sunshine. A couple of hushed voices draw his attention, however, and he notices two young women standing close by. They throw glances in his direction as they are arguing in hushed tones. Thor cocks his head with a curious smile but waits. After some more words are exchanged, the women approach him, one blushing, the other more determined but absolutely delighted. They ask for a picture with him and he agrees immediately as if it goes without saying. They pose for a selfie in which all three grin widely at the camera. The women thank him profusely before they return on their way.

“I’m here to win the heart of fair Anthony. He is an honorable man with a true heart and a friend most loyal. A man worthy of pursuing and courting. He deserves to be shown appreciation and I am joyful that this project is made to do it.”

Thor, too, needs to be presented once in his full Asgardian regalia. His red cape rustles in the slight breeze as he leans onto his impossibly large axe Stormbreaker. He smiles in amusement, but without any sign of a demeaning edge to it, when the camera is focused on his bulging arms and he poses dutifully for several running close ups of his body.

Thor is crouching down next to a sniffling girl which cannot be older than seven years. Tears are prickling in her eyes and she wipes her nose with the sleeve of her shirt. With an unimaginable gentleness, Thor takes her hand and talks to her insistently, but visibly soothing her. “Then we shall head further to search for Mister Snuffles together,” he declares loudly and stands up without letting go of her hand. He slouches on one side so she does not have to stretch her arm out too far to hold his hand. The girl smiles at him with shining eyes and nods. After some time, passed by another hard cut, Thor hands over a battered plush dog to the girl who embraces the stuffed animal with fervor. With a horrified gasp, she notices a rip in his fur where some of the stuffing is pouring out. Thor rummages around in his pockets and pulls out a colorful band-aid. With utmost sincerity and respect, he applies the band-aid to the animal, superficially closing the hole, and declares Mister Snuffles a proud warrior of the bike lane. The girl flings her arms around Thor’s neck in gratitude.

“Of course I am going to win. Just look at this face. What mortal could resist?” It is the only time that his smile gains a smug edge.

 

Vision is now standing next to the driveway that leads up to the Malibu house. The sun has gone down by now and the place is lit by lanterns and the lights inside. He is a tad more confident interacting with the camera this time.

“And those are the first impressions of our contestants. If somebody was able to keep track during that line-up, they may have noticed that while I announced ten participants but we just saw only nine. Well, we have to keep at least some kind of surprise, don’t we? If you are curious to see who else tries his luck for Tony Stark’s hand, you have to stick around after the commercial break.”

 

After said break, the show re-opens on the same shot it left off on. Tony exits the house through the front door, dressed to the nines in his tuxedo, and makes a beeline for Vision. Stopping a few steps next to the synthezoid, he gives the camera a wink before turning towards Vision. He spreads his arms and inquires. “So, what do you think, Viz?”

Vision looks him up and down for a moment before nodding once. “You look impeccable, Tony. Welcome to The Bachelor. Are you excited?”

Tony shrugs noncommittally. “Eh, you know me. I don’t think this warrants an ‘excited’ after all the things I’ve seen by now. But I have to admit, I’m pretty curious who is going to show up. Maybe a little bit hyped. Still bummed that Rhodey couldn’t make it. I would have loved to see him react to the contestants.” He sighs dramatically. “But what can you do. So, what’s the plan to proceed, Chris Harrison?”

Vision folds his hands and clears his throat. “Soon the contestants will arrive. They are driven here in pairs and you will be given the opportunity to greet everyone on their own. As soon as all have come together, the evening can officially begin. There is one first impression rose to hand out, after all, as well as the remaining eight roses later on after you had the opportunity to talk with everyone.”

Tony nods along to the words. “Sounds reasonable enough. Can’t wait.”

“That is just as well,” Vision replies and takes a couple of steps back to soon vanish out of the field of attention, “Here come the boys.”

The first car pulls up the driveway. On the inside, T’Challa is chatting amicably with Thor. The latter is just inquiring after ‘the formidable Lady Okoye’ whom he holds in his highest esteem since he met her in Wakanda when the cars pulls to a stop. T’Challa, who sits on the side facing the house, flahes Thor a smile and offers his hand for a shake. “Good luck, my friend. May the best man win.” Thor gives his hand a squeeze and responds in kind and with that, the Black Panther opens the car door and exits.

He is wearing a sharply cut white outfit, somewhere between a suit with a cloak and a one-piece suit, with red and gold highlights. It stands out perfectly in the evening gloom. His skin seems almost even darker in comparison. As he walks up towards Tony with sure and measured steps he smiles warmly at the favorable surprise visible on the other’s face. It does not take Tony long to overcome his short-lived stupor and he returns the smile with a broad grin of his own as his eyes rake T’Challa’s appearance. The king stops in front of Tony, who raises his arms in front of his chest and crosses them. “Malibu forever,” he teases before extending his hand. T’Challa rolls his eyes fondly and seizes the proffered hand.

“Thank you for that kind welcome. I am honored to meet you here. I am T’Challa, by the way.”

Tony chuckles but complies with the joke. “My absolute pleasure, T’Challa, I assure you. I’m Tony and I cannot wait to see how close we grow during this experience.” They draw each other into a hug and place a kiss on each other’s cheek. Then, Tony motions towards the close-by terrace and T’Challa heads over towards the bar tables.

Tony gives him a last glance before he turns towards the car again. The car is a spacious one, but still it looks as if Thor is unfolding himself as he climbs out and stands up to his full height. He is not clad in his armor but his clothes are still inspired by his Asgardian origin. Over a simple tunic he is wearing a wine-red robe that only flashes out under a thick, dark cloak that is slung over his shoulders and held together with an entwined brooch on his chest. His smile is wide and excited and he waves at the stunned Tony before striding closer. His teammate still has not recovered when the God of Thunder arrives at his side. Not perturbed by that at all, Thor sweeps up Tony’s hand in his own, gets down on one knee and gives him a kiss on the hand. The air is suddenly charged with tension as his lips hover so closely over the skin that both can feel the contact without actually touching. Tony stares at Thor, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. He is too caught up in his astonishment to notice the red creeping up his cheeks.

“Anthony, I am joyed to see you in good health. May I begin this opportunity to woo you with a compliment on how delightful your appearance this fine evening is.”

Finally, Tony rediscovers the use of his vocal chords and he clears his throat, cheeks still burning. “Of – of course. Wow. I… Huh. Thor, buddy, this is really a surprise. You – you know this whole thing is centered around dating? Like, romantically, yeah?”

“Of course,” Thor confirms jovially and pats Tony’s back, “I am well aware of the purposes of this event. As I said, I look forward to the opportunity to woo you.”

Tony spends another couple of seconds gaping but finally manages to, if not comprehend, at least accept that. “Great,” he replies weakly, “Just making sure. You, err, you don’t look to bad yourself. Trying to get back the old hairdo?”

Thor nods and combs through his hair with one hand. “Indeed. Although I have come to accept my involuntary haircut I found myself missing my hair.”

“Good for you. The old looks suit you, Goldilocks. So does the new one, by the way, but whatever you prefer, of course. And I’ve told you before, calling me Tony is more than enough.” The sound of the next car approaching pulled Tony out of the moment. “Listen, how about you join T’Challa at the bar, get a nice drink, and we will talk some more later, yeah?”

“You are most accommodating, fair Tony.”

Thor heads off and Tony is still too stunned to notice he entirely failed to give Thor a kiss in return, be it hand or cheek. Pulling himself out of his haze, he shakes his head and coughs to focus on the next arrival.

 

Peter Quill is lounging on the backseat next to Rhodey, talking a mile a minute and tapping his left foot. A strain is visible around Rhodey’s eye but he accepts the slightly overactive energy and just listens with half an ear. He knows something about accepting dynamic rambling even if one is not entirely in the mood to endure it and he puts that experience to good use.

Peter is the first to exit the car. He lands on the gravel with a little jump and finishes it of with a twirl that lets his suit coat which is sewn entirely out of silver paillettes sparkle from the reflecting light. He decided to go without a tie and his top shirt button open but the jacket more than makes up for it in the department of flair. He positively swaggers on the way and Tony is much more able to handle that entrance. He wiggles his eyebrows at Peter, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. Peter immediately draws Tony into a hug as soon as he is close enough, twirls the two of them around once and even dips Tony slightly before placing a kiss shamelessly right on Tony’s lips.

“Well hello there,” Tony purrs in response and tugs at Peter’s jacket lapel. He places his kiss more on the corner of Peter’s mouth than right on the lips but it is most definitely not right on the cheek.

Rhodey is squinting at the whole ordeal from the car and T’Challa is frowning, too, clutching his drink slightly stronger than strictly necessary. Only Thor seems unperturbed as he takes a hearty gulp of mead.

“Tony, very pleased to have you here. Very pleased indeed. And what do I call you outside of that mask and thrusters of yours?”

“Baby, you can call me whatever you want as long as it comes out of your mouth.”

Tony laughs wholeheartedly at that smooth response. “Careful or I might just hold you to that, Ziggy Stardust.”

The blond grins, pleased with the nickname, and finally divulges his actual name.

“Alright, Peter. Definitely see you later.”

He does not even try to wipe the giant grin off his face as he turns back to the car while Peter joins the first two contestants.

Rhodey appears, wearing a three-piece suit that has an almost metallic shimmer to its grey color paired with a tie that is immediately recognizable as part of the Iron Man merch line. Tony lets out a delighted laugh at the sight of his best friend and even meets him halfway, flinging himself at the man and pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Rhodey chuckles and returns the gesture, closing his arms around Tony’s back.

“I am so glad you’re here after all, platypus. I can’t wait to hear you roast everyone. It’s such a great surprise. I would have never guessed you’d come here in one of the cars like the contestants.”

“You mean as a contestant, Tones.”

“What? No. Don’t be silly, honeybear.”

“But I am, Tones. I’m officially one of the contestants.”

Tony gapes at Rhodey, at a loss for words. “But…but why?”

“Because if you’re looking for a man, I want to throw my hat into the ring, too. You need someone who makes you happy, Tones.”

“Aw, sugarplum, that’s so sweet of you to say. Well, if you really mean it, the tributes all gather over there.”

Rhodey plants a quick kiss on Tony’s cheek but pulls away before he can react and heads over to the trio at the bar tables.

 

In the meantime, the third car has pulled up. Inside the car, the icy silence is absolute. The two men are facing their respective windows very pointedly, the brunette with his arms crossed, the blond with his right hand balled to a fist on top of his knee. When the car comes to a halt, the blond tries to school his features into a smile but it looks stilted nevertheless.

Steve Rogers is wearing a simple but finely cut suit with a black shirt beneath which Tony had once said was looking absolutely delectable on him. His beard is now neatly trimmed but not entirely shaved off. The forced smile melts into an honest one as soon as his eyes settle Tony. Memories rise in Steve’s mind, of shared moments, lingering touches, loving whispers and fervent kisses. He is so swept up in what had once been between them that he does not notice anyone else’s reaction.

Rhodey lets go of his drink as soon as he recognizes the chiseled chin. Anger swells up in him at the sight of Steve. He is ready to head over there right now and sock him in the jaw. T’Challa’s eyebrows shoot up as he takes the whole situation in with a sip of his cocktail. Peter, on the other hand, looks from person to person, trying to figure out what exactly the situation is and why the mood suddenly flipped.

Tony, on the other hand…Tony turns ashen at the sight of Steve. His eyes very wide, his lips press together into a thin line and he involuntarily takes a step back. Memories are raising for him, too, accompanied by the blood pounding in his ears as the coldness of Siberia grips his heart once more, fists pounding against his armor, his face plate ripped away, the shield – oh god, the _shield_ rushing down, seemingly right at his face, the shield was going to kill him, he was going to diediedie – the sickening crunch of gold-titanium alloy giving way under the pressure of vibranium fueled by super strength, driving jagged pieces of metal into his skin. His father dying, his mom choking. _Did you know? Yes. He’s my friendSowasI_

A soft, familiar voice sinks its hooks into his consciousness and pulls him from his drop into a full-blown panic attack.

“-ony. Hey. Long time no see.” Steve Rogers is standing right in front of him, so close that he can get a whiff of the cologne he once picked for him and it is overwhelming and too much and cannot deal with that. One thought claws its way through the maelstrom of feelings inside of him. _How dare he?_ How dare he sign up for this stupid show to try and get close to him again? This man had abandoned him in a HYDRA bunker. This man had crushed his ARC reactor when he knew fully well how anxious Tony was about that particular former vulnerability. This man had kept the truth about his parents’ murder from him for years while admonishing him for not telling everything.

As suddenly as Steve’s appearance just dragged him down the abyss, it now grounds him in a focused state and a wave of viciousness washes over him. He does not acknowledge the tentatively raised hand and crosses his arms in front of his chest – that stupid defensive reflex he never managed to fully break. He sneers the worst kind of sneer, the one he usually reserves for the absolute scum of the tech and weapons market like Justin Hammer.

“Good lord, did you really think that travesty of a beard was a good idea to keep after your nomad days?”

Steve does not flinch back but the surprised hurt flickers through his eyes, clear as day. The small ugly part of Tony thinks _Good_. For everyone else, it is probably heart wrenching to see Captain America himself visibly deflate and look like the personification of a kicked dog.

“What are you doing here, Steve?” Tony’s voice is still cold and curt.

Steve swallows and kneads his hands to keep them busy. “I – I want a shot at getting you back, Tony.”

Tony snorts in the most derisive way imaginable and jerks his head in the direction of the bar. “I’d say have fun getting wasted but a, I do know that you can’t, and b, I don’t want you to have fun here in case you get too comfortable.” With that, he focuses on a point slightly above Steve’s shoulder, looking over him towards the car.

“Tony…”

Tony did not give the slightest reaction and Steve sighed in defeat, trotting towards the bar with slumped shoulders. His reception there is more than cool, too. Rhodey graces him with a sneer that is surprisingly similar to Tony’s. T’Challa is more cordial, but Peter figures from Tony’s reaction that there is no need to be awfully nice to Mister Perfect-Shoulder-Waist-Ratio.

Tony’s face is still thunderous when Stephen Strange emerges from the automobile, dressed in a very similarly simple but elegant tuxedo to Tony’s. His hands are covered in black kid gloves. He closes the car door with a swift push and buttons up his suit coat. His eyes find Tony’s gaze immediately and – he winks. Exactly the same way he winked at him back in New York just after they had met. It does not miss its intended purpose. Tony cannot help himself but crack a smile. He quickly turns his head to the side before the sorcerer can see just how bright Tony’s face suddenly is.

That exchange does not go unnoticed. Peter focuses his frown on Stephen now. “Oh, him,” he states with obvious distate.

T’Challa perks up at that comment. “Oh? Do you know him?”

“Yeah. He’s the wizard that was on Titan with the rest of us. An asshole and pretty arrogant, too. He gave Thanos the time stone.”

“He what?” Rhodey hisses in anger. That is something Tony had failed to tell him about his new awesome facial hair bro.

“Yup.” Peter carefully omitted the circumstances. No need to alarm the other concurrence any more and up the ante for displays of affection this early in the game.

Steve, now with a drink in front of him, leans onto one of the tables, slightly away from the others, and glowers at Strange who prances up to Tony.

Tony, having the width of his smile in check, looks at Stephen with sparkling eyes.

“What a surprise, my favorite magician in the galaxy. Fancy seeing you here.”

Stephen lets Tony initiate the hug but then pulls him close. “Yes, the strangest of people turn up here.” He smirks as Tony barks a laugh at his terrible wordplay. Tony cannot help but look over to Steve. Stephen follows his glance as gently coaxes his attention back. “Don’t mind him. There are many other people here who want to win you over and who will gladly take your mind off your past with him, including yours truly.” Tony silently looks at him for a moment and Stephen holds his gaze. “You look lovely, by the way.”

Tony scoffs but preens under the compliment. “You’re not too bad yourself.” Another quiet moment passes. “This hug is going on awfully long by now, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” is Stephen’s amused reply.

“Yeah, make that a definitely.” Tony and Stephen both lean in for a kiss on the cheek. Their beards scratch gently over each other’s skin. Slowly they break up the embrace.

“Well then, my dear Doctor. Head over to the others.”

Stephen spares them a look and sighs. “Do I have to?”

“Once more onto the breach…”

He barks a laugh but complies. He lets his touch linger on Tony’s shoulder before finally pulling away. He orders a gin and tonic before taking a place at the table as far away from Steve Rogers as possible.

 

Another car drives closer. Inside it is, again entirely silent. But the silence is of a vastly different kind than the one before. Where Steve and Stephen were dismissive and prickly towards each other, one of the two occupants of this car sneaks glances at the other one every couple of seconds, clearly unsure how to behave and somewhat nervous about his companion who is silently staring out of the window with an air of superiority.

Bruce Banner is the first of the two to get out. He nervously adjusts his navy-blue tie which matches his suit and takes the view in front of him in. The new house looks just like he remembers the old one before it had been blown to kingdom come. On the terrace at the side, Thor perks up and waves at him enthusiastically. He raises one hand and quickly waves back before he finally lets his gaze settle on the man of the hour.

Tony looks at him, once more in stunned silence. He obviously did not think about his science bro possibly signing up for the ride. Bruce cannot keep the awkward smile down as he approaches his friend. “Hey.” Inwardly, he rolls his eyes and Hulk scoffs at him. What an example of eloquence and quick wit.

“Hey yourself,” Tony replies and his smile blooms into a face, as well. “Look at you, you should wear this kind of clothing more often.” Bruce can already feel the heat creeping into his cheeks and he looks down abashedly. “No, really,” Tony hurries to assure him.

Bruce musters up all of his courage for one question. “Is it weird that I’m here?”

Tony barks a laugh and then gives a helpless shrug. “Not weirder than my oldest friend and my ex being here.”

Bruce chuckles mildly. “Yeah, I guess I can see that.”

“Do…do you mean it?” Tony sounds vulnerable and looks at him with such openness it makes Bruce’s heart flutter.

“What?”

“The appliance. Are you here because you’re serious about trying us…going somewhere else than before?”

Bruce sighs. He hates that Tony even has to ask. Unwilling separation for several years can leave the ugliest scars, he supposes. “Of course I do. You know me, Tony. I would never do this kind of thing if I was not a hundred percent certain I that I needed to do it.”

It is Tony’s turn to sigh. His has an edge of defeat and shame.

“Yeah, I do. You’re right. I’m sorry, Bruce.”

Bruce decides this situation is far too gloomy and goes for a hug, still giving Tony enough time to back out if he wants to. But Tony latches onto him, buries his face in his shoulder and just sighs again, this time more contently. “There is no need to apologize, Tony. I’m glad I made this decision.”

“I think I am too,” Tony murmurs against his suit and slowly pulls away again. “Time to face the next one, I guess.”

Bruce hesitates before leaning in closely. “Don’t freak out when he gets out. It’s Loki. I don’t know how he got approved for this, but he is here. Just…as a heads-up.”

Tony stares at him widely for a moment, then pulls him into another tight hug. “Thanks, Brucie bear.” Before he lets go, he plants a kiss on Bruce’s cheek. Bruce sways towards the bar, one hand slowly rising to his cheek and a somewhat goofy smile spreading on his lips. He is greeted joyfully by Thor and Rhodey also seems pleased to see him.

The mood in the entire vicinity shifts as Loki pulls himself up to his full height, struts across the gravel, green cape fluttering dramatically in the wind and helmet perfectly in place. He, of course, decided to show up in his full Asgardian regalia.

In the distance, Thor gets even more elated and excitedly points Loki out to the silently suffering Bruce who pats Thor’s upper arm and takes a nip of his drink. Steve’s glass shatters in his grip. Peter and T’Challa exchange puzzled looks while Stephen readies himself to interfere. Rhodes stands worryingly still in his place, a grim expression on his face and his eyes intently focused on what happens in front of him.

Tony stands very still. He knows how fast an Iron Man suit will arrive from the workshop downstairs. He also does not doubt that the others would not hesitate to restrain Loki as soon as he attempts any kind of trouble. But he still worries for the large filming crew. All these civilians. Happy and Pepper. He really hopes Loki is not trying to pull some magic bullshit.

Loki hovers above him and Tony has to look up to see the deep green eyes drill into his own. To his utter bewilderment and complete surprise, Loki mirrors the greeting Thor subjected him to. Loki does not go down on one knee but he still swipes up Tony’s hand and places a kiss on it, lips so close to his skin that neither knows whether they actually touch or not. Loki, however, does not break Tony’s gaze. He looks deep into his eyes the entire time, captures his attention and holds it without distraction.

Tony clears his throat and resists the urge to loosen his bowtie as he suddenly feels rather hot under his collar as Loki straightens up again. “Anthony Stark,” the Jotun rumbles with an amount of affection in his voice formerly unheard of – which, granted, is a low bar, “Consider yourself fortunate enough to be courted by me.”

“I’m sure it’s a special treatment,” Tony replies faintly.

Loki’s lips twitch into a sharp smile but one entirely devoid of malice. “Indeed it is.”

“You’re not trying to use this to enslave humanity again or some bullshit like that?”

Loki inclines his head. “I understand where your concerns stem from but I can assure you, without Thanos commanding me, I have no ambition to conquer your planet and would gain only insignificant satisfaction from ruling it.”

Tony is not sure how assuring that statement actually is but he decides to drop the matter. Maybe it will be easier to keep an eye on Loki for a bit here in his own house.

“Just…try not to antagonize the others too much, okay? I know, I know, God of Mischief and all but please. For my sanity if nothing else.”

Loki hums non-committedly but his smile is benign enough that Tony lets any insistences slip. “Then I welcome you to my humble abode, o horned one. Thou can obtaineth that drink I promised thee back then at the bar over there.”

Loki grins at him silently, again holding his gaze for a long time, before heading to the bar. He orders something that turns out to be a neon blue drink in a martini glass and takes a sip before looking at the group with unholy glee. His expression darkens into something dangerous only briefly when he meets Strange’s eyes.

 

The final car drives up. Inside, the two men are animatedly chatting about everything and nothing until the auto comes to a halt. Then, first, clad in a double-breasted suit designed after a 40s style and hair slicked back with gel, James Barnes leaves the car. He looks smart in the outfit but his entrance is anything but debonair. He radiates uncertainty and if Tony’s shocked face is anything to go by, his concerns are well-founded. Bucky takes the longest time out of all of them to walk up to Tony. His right hand clenches and unclenches and then he wipes it off on his lapel. His left hand, the metal one, feels heavy and useless despite its perfect Wakandan construction.

Finally, he has to face Tony who looks at him with a stony expression. Bucky tries for a tentative smile but misses by miles. The uncomfortable silence stretches further and further, until Tony opens his mouth.

“Nice new arm. Will you give me a reason to blow that one off, too?” His voice is harsh and cold and, in the background, Steve stiffens, partly still trying to regain composure after the shock of Bucky turning up here, partly readying to interfere in an upcoming fight.

Bucky shrugs half-heartedly. Before he can stop himself, a retort slips out of his mouth. “Dunno. You’ve got a spare pair of parents around I might accidentally kill?”

This time, Rhodey stiffens, tightly wound as a coil spring, ready to jump in and put Barnes down.

But Tony, after a moment of staring blankly at Bucky, throws his head back and laughs. He laughs loud and long gently punches Bucky against the metal shoulder.

“So, you’re funny when your brain doesn’t consist of scrambled eggs and assassination orders. Good. That’s good. I like it.”

A weight falls off Bucky’s back and he tries again for a smile, this time much closer to an actual charming grin. “Good to know.”

“And,” Tony adds with a staged appreciative look up and down, “I gotta say you clean up pretty nicely. Looks much better on you than hobo raccoon chic.”

Bucky chuckles and offers his hand. “I think a hug might be a bit much to ask right now. For both of us.”

Tony, surprised and impressed with Bucky’s tactfulness, shakes the offered hand. He cannot, however, keep himself from not cracking a last joke. “See you around, Barnes. Don’t go off snogging Rogers, though. This is supposed to be about me.”

To Tony’s relief, Bucky takes it as the quip it is meant to be and chuckles. “Alright. Under one condition. Call me Bucky.”

“Are you sure? Bucky is an awful nickname.”

“That or James. Just…not Barnes. Please.”

“Alright. Yeah. You got yourself a deal, Bucko.”

Bucky groans good-naturedly but winks at Tony before he heads to the bar where he soon gets hounded by Steve.

 

That means there is only one person left in the car. One last contestant to introduce himself to Tony, the others and the viewers. The car door opens and a lean man with short, dark brown hair and a stubble covering his cheeks emerges. He takes in the surroundings and whistles, impressed. Everybody else, including Tony, stares at him in disbelief and slight awe.

Close to the bar, Pepper stares up from her phone in disbelief. “Is – is that Jude Law?”

And indeed, it is Jude Law who strolls up to a slightly shell-shocked Tony with a boyish grin on his face. He extends his hand and Tony shakes it, staring at the keen eyes, an undefinable mix of blue and green.

 “It’s fantastic to meet you. I’m Jude.”

Tony cannot stop himself. He just can’t. “Hey Jude.”

The actor laughs, a bright and melodious sound, and stuffs his hands into his trouser pockets. “Yeah, I get that answer sometimes.”

That unflappable answer makes Tony ease up. He shrugs, grinning. “Could have guessed that. It’s wonderful to meet you too, Jude. I’m Tony and very curious about getting to know you.”

Jude’s answering smile is radiant and delighted. “I only hope I can manage to stick out to you among all these incredibly impressive people.”

“Do your best, Dickie Greenleaf. I’m sure there is a very impressive person inside you, too.”

“Is there any chance that you will not call me names of my past roles constantly?” He already sounds resigned.

“Don’t hold out too much hope, Lemony Snicket.” The teasing in Tony’s voice is impish and almost gentle.

Jude sighs lightly but accepts his inevitable fate. “To a good run of the show, then?”

“Break a leg and all that,” Tony agrees and they hug and exchange cheek kisses as well before Jude joins the nine other contestants who are ogling him like an alien.

 

Vision approaches Tony again, who is staring at the ten men at the bar, lost in his thoughts. Vision clears his throat to discreetly gain his attention. He is successful and as soon as Tony looks at him with a wry smile, he launches into another monologue, directed halfway at the star of the show and half at the camera and, thus, the audience.

“Now that you have met all the contestants, you shall spend some time getting to know them better. It is highly likely that most viewers already know the elimination progress for the contestants. Just in case, I will it explain anyway. At the end of today, as well as at the end of every following week, all contestants will attend the rose ceremony. In this ceremony, the bachelor will offer a rose to every contestant he wants to keep around for the next week. There is, however, a small twist. A hiccup, one may say. At every ceremony, there will be one rose less than there are contestants. One person will have to leave every week. Choosing who the unlucky last one will be is up to the bachelor. There are various special roses that can be handed out before the rose ceremony. The first of those roses is the first impression rose.” He turns towards Tony and presses a red rose into his hand. “You are meant to give this rose to the person who will leave the best first impression now when you are talking to everyone. Just this one. The others you will have to gift with their flowers at the rose ceremony at the end of the episode.”

Tony gently lifts the rose, sniffing at the petals with a smile. “Okeydokey, that sounds easy enough.”

“Then we should formally open this season of _The Bachelor_ with the contestants and a toast, don’t you think?”

Tony nods in agreements and follows Vision to the bar. He quickly gets a fruity but non-alcoholic cocktail and then returns to Vision’s side who is holding a champagne flute simply pro forma. He does not drink, after all. He clears his throat, quickly gaining everybody’s attention.

He flashes a bright smile for the camera. “If anybody had told me five years ago that I’d become _The Bachelor_ , I would have told them to lay off the drugs.” That opener draws a ripple of laughter. “And if they had then proceeded to tell me the names of all the contestants interested in winning my heart, I probably would have flown them to a rehab clinic myself. It’s not really through my skull yet that you all want to compete for me and what’s left of my heart. But here we are and we have an amazing time ahead of us. I look forward to spend time with each of you and am eager to see what new ways our relationships might go. Everybody, to the new season!” He raises his glass and everybody else follows his example.

“To the new season.” The sentiment is echoed all across the bar and everybody takes a sip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued in the next chapter because of length.  
> Yes, the participation of Jude Law is inspired both by a comment and a post about this AU.  
> The social media bits will continue but they will only appear at the end of an episode, so (the way it's looking right now) every second chapter. *horrified look at the word count* Oh hell. What did I get myself into??  
>  
> 
> The songs for each character introduction are:
> 
> Tony - Iron Man by Black Sabbath  
> Peter - Sweet Dreams by Eurythmics  
> Bruce - Inner Balance by Meditation Music Zone  
> Bucky - That Man by Caro Emerald  
> Steve - Star Spangled Man from the TFA Soundtrack  
> Stephen - Bad Case Of Loving You by Robert Palmer  
> T'Challa - All The Stars by Kendrick Lamar  
> Loki - I Put A Spell On You by Annie Lenox  
> Rhodey - War Machine by AC/DC  
> Thor - Thunder God by Freedom Call
> 
> Yes, they are cheesy and slightly crackish. That makes them the perfect choice for a reality tv show.
> 
> Edit: changed Loki's eye colour to the correct one and fixed some typing errors. Some are probably still in there, but eh. *shrugs*


	3. Episode 1 Part 2 - The First Impression Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first episode of The Bachelor: Tony Stark Edition continues after a short commercial break! Watch the contestants and the bachelor have one-on-one talks for the first time and find out who leaves enough of an impression to snatch the first rose. Do not change the channel before the end of the episode to see which unlucky guy is the one to leave at the first rose ceremony!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *numbly stares at the word count* almost 13k this chapter. Oh God, what did I get myself into??
> 
> As always, your responses to this story are blowing me away.  
> This is not beta read and English is not my first language. Please enjoy.

Tony lets his gaze slowly wander over all the contestants. He sees Bruce’s shy smile and notices Steve’s hopeful look. He is aware of the heated look Loki gives him and after a quick count he knows that Thor is on his fourth stein of mead. After a quick calculation, he turns to Peter and flashes him his most inviting smile. “Star Man, would you like to talk a bit?”

“Of course,” Peter replies eagerly and puts his glass down on one of the tables. He follows Tony, who rounds the corner of the horse and heads for a large and comfortable bench close to the pool. He sits down and takes another sip of his drink, slurping audibly through the straw. Peter plonks down on the seat as well, throwing one arm over the backrest and scooting up close to Tony until their outer thighs touch. Tony, well-versed in pick-up moves, drinks again to conceal the smirk that spreads across his face. He enjoys the unabashed physical flirting and he enjoys that he is not the only one willing to initiate it.

“So,” Tony draws the vocal out as if the small word has more than just one vowel and trails off, thinking about a good first question, “I remember meeting your team. They are apparently very important to you. Tell me more about them.”

Peter exhales audibly, thinking on how to best convey that the Guardians are so much more than just his team. He decides to be blunt and upfront about it. “They’re my family, you know,” he begins and his smile grows warm and sincerely fond, “At first it was just Gamora, Drax, Rocket, Groot and me. It wasn’t an easy start but I think that is what made us so strong in the end. It doesn’t matter what differences we have between each other, at the end of the day we still have each other and that is what counts, right? We picked Mantis up along the way and I think Nebula told you pretty much everything about her already.”

Tony nods, a grin flashing across his face, as he remembers his trip with the blue assassin off Titan and the unlikely friendship they soon formed.

“I gotta warn you about Rocket, though. If you ever spend more than just a couple of minutes with him, hold on to your armor. That raccoon is obsessed with tech and everything else that goes boom.”

“He sounds like a blast to hang out with,” Tony counters, a mischievous glint in his eye, “You really have to introduce us formally.”

“No. Oh no, no, no. Not happening. I value my spaceship with all her circuits exactly where they are, thanks.”

“So, it’s your spaceship and not the spaceship of all of you?”

“I’m the captain and team leader, that makes her mine by proxy for the others.”

“But shouldn’t the chief mechanic know better than the captain if the ship needs reparations, James T?”

“I’m not letting the two of you take the Milano apart piece by piece and that’s final!”

“We’ll see about that,” Tony cannot help but grin as he sticks out his tongue to Peter who gently shoves him in the side in return, his almost resolute pout slowly dissolving into a smile as well.

After a moment of silence, Tony decides on the worst double entendre he can think of. “But when are you going to show me stars, Major Tom?”

“Any time you like sounds good to me.” Peter wiggles his eyebrows in response, of course catching the thinly veiled hit-on.

“Is there any planet you know you’d want to show me before any others?” Tony returns to serious curiousness far sooner than Peter expects and throws him for a loop with his question.

He goes silent, contemplating the possible answers. “I think you might enjoy Xandar. They’re rebuilding the capital and recovering from Thanos’ attack. I could also introduce you to the people reconstructing the Nova Corp. There’s this one guy I can imagine you’d like to meet. He’s very into this whole superheroing gig, so you’d probably get along pretty well.”

“Sounds great.”

“It is,” Peter agrees enthusiastically before giving Tony a curious look, “Is there anywhere in space you’d like to go?”

Tony shrugs half-heartedly, busying his left hand from clenching by drumming the fingers against his legs, close to the spot where Peter’s presses against his own. “Only something you’d probably consider boring, I guess.”

“Try me,” Peter encourages him with a smile.

“The moon.”

Silence stretches between them until Peter finally replies. “Okay, I have to admit that I would have expected something more…creative or fun from you. No offense.”

Tony snorts. “None taken. I’m sure there is a lot interesting and amazing stuff to see in space and I’m also sure I’d get a kick out of seeing that stuff. But something I would really, really like to see some time is an earthrise on the moon.”

“Not as boring as it first sounds, I suppose,” Peter concedes with a shrug but remains unconvinced, “But I’m sure your armor could withstand a quick trip through space. Why haven’t you done that yet?”

It is Tony’s turn to shrug. “The Earth never needed saving that big before. Seeing the planet from afar might just put some things into perspective. While also being a reminder that we won.”

 

At the bar, Stephen is halfway through sharing his impression of the absent man upfront with the group. “-and Quill can be quite obnoxious until he gets his way.”

“Thank God you’re above that,” Steve replies with a positively acerbic voice, glowering at the sorcerer, whose head whips around until he glares daggers at him.

“Are you implying something, Mister Rogers?”

Steve, never one to back down from a challenge, puts his glass down with a forceful clink and takes a step forward, his whole posture screaming battle readiness. “I am implying that you are an obnoxious, self-centered hypocrite. And it’s Captain Rogers, Doctor Strange.”

Strange’s face goes dangerously blank but before he can even open his mouth to shoot back, Bucky is at Steve’s side and grabs his arm to pull him away. “C’mon, Stevie, back away” he mutters, “No need to get into a fight on the first evening, punk. Let’s get ya another quencher.”

Thor makes use of Bucky’s intervention to do something similar to Strange and pull him over in between Bruce and himself and draw his attention away from the supersoldiers.

Only Loki is visibly enjoying himself immensely, leaning against a table and sipping his drink while watching the clash taking place. He sucks a maraschino cherry from the pick in his drink with relish as the drama unfolds.

 

“…and I have this amazing music player. It’s Terran, if I’m not mistaken, and pretty advanced. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, it’s called a Zune-“

Tony whimpers as if in pain and clutches Peter’s arm. “Why would you do that to me? Are you trying to get yourself disqualified, David Bowman?”

“What? What did I do?”

“Pretty advanced…a _Zune_. Oh lord, the infamy!”

“Tony! What is it?!”

“I – I need a break. I know that you can’t know any better but my poor technologic loving heart can’t take that kind of blasphemy without needing time to recover.

Peter looks as bummed as he is about this jarring end of their first one-on-one talk and sneaks confused glances at Tony who accompanies him back to the others. He even pouts but Tony waggles waves him off.

“I have to digest that first. And once I’ve done that, I’ll introduce you to a couple of wonders of modern technology.”

“It’s a date, then,” Peter replies suggestively, glad to have an opening to latch onto again. Tony only stops briefly in his tracks once Peter’s words really register. A sly grin spreads across his face.

“Yeah, it is.”

 

At the bar, T’Challa spots the returning duo first but does not announce it to the others. He takes in as many details as he can, from the small distance between the bodies to the way Quill perks up after something Tony says to him. It is difficult to guess how well their talk went but T’Challa is sure it went well overall.

Rhodey and Thor notice them next and make the rest of the group aware. Peter looks at Tony for a last time before he heads over the bar and orders a piña colada. In the meantime, Tony considers his next move. He comes to a decision and approaches Rhodey.

“Hey, platypus. Wanna talk?”

“Sure.” The colonel follows his friend to the back of the house right to the same spot where Tony just chatted with Peter. They sit down, an easy silence between them that grows heavier the longer Tony thinks about how to voice his questions best. Deciding that Rhodey is used to him not beating around the bush, he comes straight to the point. “You really think we should go and try to change our relationship into something romantic?” His brows are furrowed, his head tilted to the side. He has difficulty picturing it.

Rhodey does a combination of a shrug and a nod, jerking his head and shoulders simultaneously. “Why not,” he counters the question and Tony rolls his eyes, “What I think is that if you want to look for a man to settle down with, don’t disregard this option. We know each other so well. We are good for each other, you know we are. I think I can make you happy and I know you can make me happy. A couple of weeks to see if we can feel for each other that way sounds great. Before you have to settle for someone who doesn’t deserve you.” Of course, in Rhodey’s eyes nobody of the other contestants deserves Tony, but for now he restrains himself from saying that out loud.

 

“I just cannot picture something happening between Tony and Rhodey,” Bruce admits freely, “I am honestly so surprised to see him competing. They are like brothers. Or at least Tony sees it that way.”

 

“If things hadn’t led to this situation,” Tony hypothesizes, “But you still felt we should try to start dating. What would you suggest for a first date?”

Rhodey hums as he thinks about the question and shifts his weight, stretching his legs. “I can think of two possibilities, very different from each other. Either, we have a movie night together, but with a proper dinner beforehand and just the two of us, or we could go visit a fair. It should be something we both feel comfortable with doing with each other because it might start out feeling a bit weird, so we don’t need anything else making things even more awkward but it also should be something not too ordinary so we do not automatically fall into our usual dynamic if we want to test out how to shift it.”

Tony sways his head from one side to the other a couple of times, judging the answer on parameters only he knows.

“And if you don’t win this?”

Rhodey shrugs halfheartedly. “Gonna swallow my pride, probably. Give whoever that lucky bastard is a shovel talk, most likely. Maybe need a bit of time to digest everything and have everything between us get back to normal. But I won’t abandon you, Tones. Never. I will always be there for you, no matter what happens.”

Tony sighs contently and snuggles up against Rhodey’s side. “That’s the most important thing for me, sugarplum.”

Rhodey puts one arm around Tony’s shoulders and presses a gentle kiss on top of his hair. “After everything we’ve been through together, you won’t get rid of me anymore, even if you wanted to try.”

“Never,” Tony assures him and enjoys their comfortable silence for a moment. Then, “Honeybear?”

“Yeah, Tones?”

“Who of them do you think has the best chances?”

Rhodey snorts. “I’m not gonna risk diminishing my chances by telling you.”

“I still want to ask you something?”

“This is about Steve, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is! I don’t think I can handle Steve being here.”

“You don’t have to, you know.”

“I’m just…God, I’m still so angry at him, every time I see him look at me with those tender baby blues like he used to, I just want to yell at him just in case I cannot stop myself from forgiving him instead. I don’t want to forgive him. Not yet. Not after everything. But then I look at him and see the guy that I loved so much and…help me, sweet cheeks. What should I do?”

“You have every right to still be angry with him, just as you have the right to want to be angry with him. Nobody should tell you what you are supposed to feel, especially with such a complicated shit fest like that. If you don’t think it’s time to forgive him yet, don’t do it. If you don’t want him here, don’t give him a rose. He will have to leave this evening.”

“You always make so goddamn much sense,” Tony laments and Rhodey snorts.

“It’s still your choice, though. I can’t do that for you, I just can try to get your thoughts to an efficient point.”

“You just want him gone because it’s one man less to compete with,” Tony giggles and earns himself a tickle with that playful accusation.

“I’m not afraid of competing with those guys. I know you better than all of them.”

“Then I guess that the others deserve a chance to try to catch up with that gap,” Tony replies and wriggles out of their hug.

“No, no they don’t,” Rhodey groans unwillingly but accepts the end of their one-on-one talk and stands up to walk back, as well.

 

The first thing Bruce notices when Tony and Rhodey return to the group is how companionable they look and the doctor is both relieved that of those considering themselves close friends to Tony, it is not the colonel who ignited a romantic flame after a first heart-to-heart, and worried that he and Tony may cut a similar picture when they will return from their talk later. The second thing he notices is the fleeting but unmistakably smug look Rhodes gives Steve before joining T’Challa at his table.

On one hand, Bruce feels the nervousness creeping up, the longer he has to wait for his chat with Tony, on the other hand, he supposes it might be a good thing that Tony does approach the only non-super-anything human now after his time with Rhodey instead. It is not entirely awful to pass his time listening to Thor and watch Loki glower at Stephen Strange.

 

“Hey there, Law and Order,” Tony sneaks his arm around Jude’s arm, gently tugging him away, “Wanna go for a talk?”

Jude nods in delight and waves at the others. “Gentlemen, please excuse us.”

The actor follows the genius to the by now established talk bench. They both sit down. Jude crosses his legs, Tony props his arm up against the backrest and rests his head on his open palm and gazes at Jude from beneath his eyelashes. “So. Jude.”

Jude replies with a coquettish smile. “Yes, Tony?”

“There’s really only one question I can ask you first.”

“Go ahead.”

“If you could make a movie in which you and I co-star, what kind of movie would you choose?”

Silence stretches, longer and longer, while Jude studies Tony who simply looks back, curious about the answer.

“Definitely an action comedy,” he announces finally and Tony raises his eyebrows in surprised interest, “Something quick and exciting. But…not set in this time. Call me weird, but I don’t think a sci-fi movie would suit you. I think you’d have too many issues with the stuff the writers and directors get wrong in the script.” Tony has to laugh at that admission – mainly because it is most likely very true – “Perhaps a period piece. If we are co-starring, I’d say our characters should share a very close relationship. Maybe something buddy-cop-like in a far stronger bond. That kind of dynamic usually guarantees the best split of screen time between the main actors. I’d give you a highly intelligent character because that is something you emulate very well by…just being you. It’s part of your aura. A man ahead of his time, restricted by the society and its rules he lives in, but not living beyond them. Someone who does good. Definitely a protagonist, not an antagonist. A character with flaws, maybe an addiction problem. Something that he needs help with from his co-star.”

Tony, slightly scared by how well the hypothetical role Jude is spinning fits him to a tee, clears his throat and tries not to let show what crosses his mind. “Doesn’t sound like much spotlight left for the second lead.”

Jude waves him off. “No, no, that is the beautiful thing about duo dynamics. One character cannot work without the other, the stories needs both to proceed and the conflict cannot be solved if they don’t work together and combine their strengths to even out their weaknesses. What do you think about a crime or mystery plot?”

“What, do you want to make me the next Sherlock Holmes?” Tony huffs in amusement.

Jude shrugs with a half-hearted grin. “Why not? I know someone who wants to start making one sometime next year.”

“Would that make you Doctor Watson?”

“Yes. Yes, it would. Relatable, reliable, able to fight and popular with the ladies.”

Tony snorts loudly.

“If you say so, Repo Man. If you say so….”

 

“What can that guy offer Tony,” Rhodey scoffs at the camera and crosses his arm, “He isn’t even powered, just some boring-ass actor. Does he star in movies Tony likes? Yes. But that doesn’t mean anything.”

 

“…you’d get at least two actual children on top of your own with me, possibly more depending on how many more I pick up along the way. I don’t want to come on too strong about this but it’s a hard limit for me. Whoever wants to end up with me has to accept the kids in my life. They’re the future. They are part of my family.”

“Oh, of course,” Jude nods in understanding, “Children always claim a special place in our lives. I know that very well with my own five. The public and the media don’t know all that much about yours, do they?”

Tony shakes his head vehemently. “Nah. I know what it’s like to be shoved into the spotlight at a very young age and I wouldn’t want that for them. Of course, I ultimately don’t have that much of a say. They aren’t literally my kids. Not biologically, and I haven’t even adopted either of them formally. They’re in their teens and they still have some of their family. But I’m not keeping them out of this whole circus. I mean, I want to find the person to spend the rest of my life with and that person will have a huge impact on mine and, thus, their lives. Naturally, they will have a say in this. I can’t imagine settling with someone they don’t greenlight.”

“Then I hope that I can leave as good of an impression with them as I hopefully do with you.”

He can barely keep himself from giggling in return – Tony is sure he has already exhausted his giggling quota for the next decade and he has some form of image to retain, after all. He settles for a “We’ll see” instead and then rises from his seat. “I’m afraid time’s already up.”

“Thank you for a lovely first chat, then,” Jude follows his cue and together they return to the bar.

 

Loki is on his third daiquiri when Tony and Jude return to the group. It helps that not many are willing to engage him in a conversation apart from Thor but his brother still has that annoying habit of talking more about himself than listening to others when swept away in excitement, so those conversations are more of a monologue right now. But Banner is willing to listen to Thor, so he has his audience and does not notice his social blundering. The good old captain is also hovering closer by than before, his friend with a metal arm in tow. Loki enjoys the resentful glares and nervous glances Rogers is shooting him every now and then. Loki pretends loftily not to notice those looks, be they from Rogers or Banner. The only glowers he is interested in returning with the same vitriol are those that the damned sorcerer gives him. He cannot wait for an opportunity or several to pay that annoying human back for the long fall he decidedly did not enjoy.

His eyebrows rise when Tony approaches his table. He did not expect to be picked for a chat this soon but is very satisfied by it. Even more so when he notices the glares Strange and Rogers send his way, probably agreeing with each other for the first time since they started their petty rivalry. He lets his lips part and shows his teeth in a brilliant smile, taunting for his competition, tempting for the prize he has set his eyes on.

Loki does not miss the way Tony’s look dashes to Rogers as he gets closer to him. Nor does he miss the way his lips pucker up slightly as soon as he sees the dark look Rogers is giving the Jotun. If he were a lesser being with not nearly as much self-control as he possesses, he might cackle out loud. Watching this entire drama unfold is just too entertaining all while snatching away Tony for himself. Really, this show could not be any better if he had designed it as a ruse himself.

“Care for a chat, Dionysus?”

Loki’s gaze drops several degrees in temperature immediately. “Do I look like I would ever adorn myself with a garland of vine leafs?”

Tony tilts his head and squints at Loki as if imagining him in such a get-up and then has the cheek to simply shrug in response with a wide grin that says more than enough. Loki has to acknowledge the bravado it must take to treat him with such insolence which immediately makes the impudence much more endearing.

“But despite that I am most agreeable to a conversation with you. I am sure it shall be most…stimulating. Please, do lead the way.” Loki takes his drink with him and gently places his free hand on Tony’s back. He makes sure to look at every other contestant with a wicked grin and follows the smaller mortal across the terrace.

The bench Tony sits down on is large enough to allow Loki to drape himself across the seating surface and lounge around with all his limbs comfortably extended. He pays close attention to putting only little distance between himself and the human.

Tony has one question that is begging to be asked and he soon obliges, needing to sate his own disbelieving curiosity. “So, Lokester…tell me. Why did you sign up for this?”

Loki shrugs nonchalantly and leans closer towards Tony.

“It looks promising as a source of entertainment to me. Besides, I cannot deny that you have caught my fancy, Anthony.”

Tony looks at him, puzzled by that declaration, and squints at the Jotun. “Why?”

He grins in response and cups Tony’s face with both his hands, pulling him closer while leaning down to meet his lips halfway. Reason may suggest that the descendant of a Frost Giant feels cold to other people but his breath is warm against Tony’s skin and the tongue that prods for entry into his mouth almost burns. A noise escapes Tony’s throat as he parts his lips and Loki immediately takes advantage of the new access. Tony, not one to stay passive, returns the kiss with vigor. After a drawn-out moment of tongues swiping and teeth grazing, Loki pulls away and, his fingers trailing over the other’s cheeks, lets go of Tony’s face. The left corner of his mouth pulls up into a smirk.

“Take a guess,” he whispers.

“Oh,” Tony replies hollowly, at a loss for words, still rearranging his brains after that kiss, “Wow.” With a dazed smile, Tony grabs his almost forgotten drink and settles against the back rest. He takes a sip of the fruity beverage and watches Loki who also gets comfortable again, still looking very much like the cat that got the canary as well as the cream and ate both.

“Now, are there any other questions you would like to ask me?”

“Sure, why not,” Tony shrugs and plucks a grape off his glass’s brim to pop it into his mouth, “This is to get to know each other, after all. Let’s see….hm…I already know that you’re a dramatic fucker even outdoing me. I know you like everything green, black and gold and I have heard that you have a tendency to transform into snakes.”

Loki hums in a noncommittal manner and starts drawing a nonsensical pattern on Tony’s shoulder with his index finger.

“This might be a heavy hitter,” Tony warns him, “But I’m curious. What do you miss most about your home?”

Loki’s gaze loses its focus as his mind is drawn to the memory of indulgent smiles, warm eyes and loving words. He does not even realize that he is speaking out loud when he suddenly utters “My mother.” The god sounds as vulnerable as any mortal.

Tony falls as silent as Loki at that unexpected admission and he feels an abrupt and irrational spike of kinship with the trickster flare up in his chest.

“She was,” Loki searches for the right words, “A wonderful person. Kind, loving, understanding. Like a mother is supposed to be. She often tried to protect me from Odin’s scorn, but seldomly succeeded. She was skilled in the art of healing and instilled in me an interest for magic.”

Tony is too considerate to even think that he now knows who is to thank for that accomplishment, too swept away in this soft side Loki is revealing to him.

“She got killed because of a foolishness. A short-sighted foolishness I committed. I do not regret easily, but this burden I will carry with me forever.”

Tony stares at him with rapt attention. It is the last thing he would have ever believed to come from this, but right now a part of him understands a part of Loki.

Loki clears his throat and his voice is considerably colder. He locks that open door firmly. “I wish to speak no more of this.”

Tony clears his throat as well, somewhat sorry for bringing this obviously sore matter up. “Yeah, sure. Of course.”

They fall into a slightly uncomfortable silence, Loki’s fingers still dancing across Tony’s shoulders.

Tony has an idea and ponders it for a moment before deciding to throw caution to the wind. “Would another kiss make up for my question?”

Loki’s distant gaze snaps back to Tony and a grin forms on his face. “I think it might, but in the end, it depends on how good the kiss will be.”

Tony leans closer, responding with a grin of his own, a saucy edge to it, “Then I shall give my best.”

He digs his fingers into Loki’s black locks and pulls him into a second kiss, open mouths moving against each other languidly.

 

“Please, that’s a literal supervillain we’re talking about here,” T’Challa scoffs and crosses his arms, “I am certain that a true hero like Tony would want nothing to do with such a person.”

 

After a solid couple of minutes, Tony pulls back, gently tugging on Loki’s lower lip with his teeth before breaking apart entirely. He looks up to the god of mischief from beneath his eyelashes and is pleased to see him sprouting a languorous smile. “Good enough?”

“For now,” Loki teases, “But I am sure there will arise more occasions.”

Tony only smirks. That is definitely a thought he appreciates because, damn, the trickster is one hell of a kisser.

“That will have to wait a bit more, though,” he sighs theatrically, “I’m afraid we used up all our time.”

“It was time well spent.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“Well, that is a first.”

“And the last, if you keep going like this.”

It is almost frightening how easy the banter comes as the head back. Soon, however, silence falls between them. For a moment, Tony considers asking him about Thor and whether Loki thinks his brother is serious about his participation. But he quickly disregards that option, remembering all too well how prickly he can become on the topic of his family. No need to tickle a sleeping dragon and all that, especially after this good a start.

As soon as they reach the filming area, Loki saunters over to the Bar and orders another drink. Tony, however, lets his gaze wander over the contestants, mentally separating who he has already talked to and who not. He carefully avoids looking at Steve and decides that after everything going on, he needs someone he feels comfortable with next. His decision is a no-brainer and he promptly makes a beeline towards Bruce.

 

Bruce is leaning against the table, cradling his glass and his cheeks slightly flushed from the alcohol he drank so far, regaling T’Challa, Steve and Bucky with a tale of his stay on Sakaar and what kind of outlandish little things he could recall with Thor happy to chime in every now and then with additions of his own, sometimes adding a little cosmic context for the benefit of the humans when someone pokes him in the side and throws an arm around his shoulder from behind, hugging him back against their chest.

“Hiya, Brucie bear.” Tony’s goatee tickles the sensitive skin on the back of his neck. Bruce smiles and grabs Tony’s arm, squeezing it gently in return before prying himself out of the hug. His attention is on Tony now, all thoughts of entertaining his audience dissipating.

“Hi. Having a nice evening so far?”

“A bit on the weird side, I gotta say, but I’ve had much worse. Do you know what would make this evening even better?”

Bruce tilts his head, eyes trained on Tony, silently prompting to go on.

“Having a talk with my favourite science bro! C’mon!”

Bruce lets himself be dragged away by Tony without much resistance. He remembers, however, to look over his shoulder and call “I’ll see you later” to the others, giving a wave at Thor for good measure. He relishes in the way Tony clings to his arm. He missed him. Missed this. The unconcerned, casual implicitness with which he always touched and prodded Bruce as if there was no chance of the other guy exploding, showing his affection and his trust in that kind of little gestures. Laughable as they may appear to anyone else, they always meant the world to Bruce.

It is still difficult for him to wrap his head around the fact that several years have passed since they had last shared a lab, a building and several hours of time. The years as the Hulk are so hazy and subconscious in his memories, he has no feeling of the time that passed. He hates it, even though he has come to accept that he cannot fault the Hulk for staying in charge for so long.

Tony’s voice breaks him out of his bleak musings.

“Where’s that beautiful brain of yours sending your thoughts, hm?”

Bruce blinks and finds himself at the backside of the house, alone with Tony next to a bench and the other looking at him with open fondness as well as concerned curiosity.

“Far, far away,” he answers. He knows that probably makes no sense to Tony, but he cannot bring himself to begin and try to wrap everything that happened and that hangs between them awkwardly into words. He doubts that there even are enough words or the right words. He sighs and shakes his head to chase those thoughts away. He wants to concentrate on Tony instead. “I missed you.”

A noise escapes Tony’s throat, somewhere between a coo and a heavy sigh. “I missed you, too. And the other guy as well. But, admittedly, you more.”

Bruce’s gaze wanders towards the bench, thinking back about Tony’s original Malibu house. “Do you still have a pool back on the other side?” His question is abrupt and without any form of context but Tony does not even blink in surprise. Instead, he merely nods and nudges Bruce to follow him.

The silence that settles between them is still companionable but not as easy as it used to be. A fact both notice and both silently hope to change.

 

Peter Quill snorts as he smirks into the camera, crossing his arms. “Yeah, I don’t think Bruce is going to be a real issue. I overheard them, they are self-proclaimed science bros. Science bros, not science boyfriends. Says it all, doesn’t it?”

 

Tony leads Bruce around the house until they reach a second patio, spacious and most likely at least partly functioning as a roof to lower parts of the building. A couple of deckchairs are aligned around the generous swimming pool, large enough to swim some rounds.

“It must have taken ages to rebuild everything,” Bruce says in awe. Even without getting a look of the insides, he already noticed several differences to the old building. It does not surprise him. Since he designed the original building, Tony has changed so much.

“That’s what building contractors are there for,” Tony quips, “I only had to adjust the blueprints and write a couple of checks.”

Bruce only smiles at Tony instead of insisting on complimenting him. He knows his friend’s tendency to downplay the effort a project requires of him fairly well. So he decides to let the matter go and leans down to untie his shoes. Tony watches him with a bemused expression and follows suit. Tony is not as used to standing on one foot as Bruce is, so he leans against his shoulder to avoid hopping to keep his balance. They roll up their pants legs and sit down at the edge of the pool, dangling their feet into the refreshingly cool water.

Bruce sighs with pleasure and kicks his legs, creating ripples on the surface.

“Everything feels so unreal,” Bruce starts unprompted, “The last thing I really remember is us being in Sokovia, everyone getting ready to fight Ultron. I remember…I remember Natasha – triggering me. The feeling of the transformation, of Hulk breaking out from under my skin, the way my consciousness always faded when he took over. And then, the next thing I know, I wake up on an alien planet, Thor hovering above me and telling me that it’s been several years. Years I have no recollection of, years I did not even feel passing by. It was so jarring.”

Tony stays silent, his eyes and attention focused on Bruce.

“And then we are chased and have to flee from that planet, rescue everyone on Asgard, fight the Norse goddess of death, have to flee from there as Asgard is destroyed and in space we are intercepted by Thanos’ ship. Half the people are slaughtered, Heimdall sends me back to earth and everything that happened afterwards you know better than anyone.”

“Sounds like one hell of a week.”

“It was.”

“Then you definitely deserve some down time,” Tony claps Bruce on the back, trying to cheer him up, “And where better to relax than here? Everyone has a room, it was fitted like that for the competition. You’ve already found the pool and you know the beach is literally within spitting distance. I’ve got some new yoga mats for the gym area, which I redesigned entirely. I even added a lab on top of my workshop, so if you want to do some good old sciencing…” Tony trails off and shrugs with one shoulder.

“Sounds great,” Bruce agrees and enjoys the water around his legs some more. A thought crosses his mind and he decides to share it with Tony to cheer him up a bit after his heavy yet needed opening tale. “You know, if I didn’t have to rejoin the others, I’d probably just hop into the water right now.”

Tony smirks, easily picturing Bruce in a dripping wet suit, curly hair flat against his head and his clothes clinging to his frame. The smirk widens a bit. “If you wouldn’t drip water all over the place, I’d even push you in just because,” he teases.

They take a couple of moments to grow more somber again. Finally, Bruce asks, “Do you want to tell me about what happened while I was gone?”

Tony stares at the sky for a long time before answering. “Are you going to stay awake through it?”

The jab hurts and Bruce blushes furiously. He hates that Tony is not asking that question without reason. “Of course I am. I’m your friend.” It is the only peace offering he bring forward and he almost sighs in relief when Tony accepts it for what it is.

“Alright, Brucie bear. But not now. Not today. There are some things in my story that need enough time to be told.”

“Then maybe on another sleepless night,” Bruce offers. He knows how often Tony suffers insomnia. Another thing the two of them share, although he does suffer from it to a lesser extent than the engineer.

“We can make it a real insomniacs unanonymous meeting. I’ve stocked the kitchen up on your favorite green tea.” Neither has the heart to mention that there was no imminent reason for Tony to do that. It tells Bruce enough about his state of welcome at Tony’s home and it warms his heart.

“Sounds great.”

“Wonderful,” Tony almost claps his hands but stops himself in the last moment, not wanting to make this feel like the wrap up of a business meeting, and pulls his feet out of the pool to stand up “I’ll hold you to it.”

As if to highlight his words, he holds his hand out towards Bruce who takes it and lets Tony pull him up to head back to the others.

“You and Thor are getting along well now?” Tony asks suddenly with a carefree tone that does not convince Bruce for a single second. Unsure how to interpret the question instead, he shrugs awkwardly.

“Yeah. Yeah, we went through a lot out there. It was so much and so intense. Just one of those things that pushes you closer together, you know. He is a great guy.”

“I never doubted our favorite deity, Brucie bear,” Tony smiles at him, albeit slightly strained, “Just curious. You two didn’t really interact all that much before.”

“I guess,” Bruce shrugs once more, “He spent most of his time on Asgard, after all. But I’m glad that we get along so well. Having friends is nice.”

Something inside Tony stings from that admission, the reminder that Bruce is still so secluded most of the time. His soft spot for Bruce that always insists that the scientist deserves everything in the world including all the friends he wants and deserves is rearing its head.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

 

The group of men has warmed up to each other more and more, everyone engaged in some conversation, tongues loosening along with behavior the more alcohol is consumed. That does not mean everyone is getting along perfectly now, far from it, but it is still a much more comfortable atmosphere than at the beginning. Loki is even standing right next to Thor and has even lessened the frequency with which he gives Stephen Strange death glares, although he still refrains from participating in his brother’s and the magician’s mostly earth-related chat.

When Bruce and Tony return, the billionaire heads their way and Loki is torn between rolling his eyes that Thor is apparently getting his chance next and appreciating the thought of having some minutes without his brother. Bruce tries to follow the other man, but Steve puts a hand on his shoulder and drags him into a conversation. Bruce throws a glance at Tony who raises an eyebrow in return. Bruce shrugs helplessly, then inclines his head and follows Rogers to the table surrounded by Bucky, T’Challa and a somewhat awkward Jude Law.

T’Challa, however, excuses himself from the round and passes Steve and Bruce and walks up to Tony, who is surprised but not dismissive.

“Would you like to talk, Tony?”

“Showing initiative, eh? I like it. Alright then. Come along, your highness.” It is not surprising but still baffling how flippant such a title of honor sounds falling from Tony Stark’s lips but T’Challa does not appear to take offense. Instead, he gives a curt bow and follows Tony to the back of the house.

 

“So, how’s Wakanda? Settling in well among the rest of the world?” Tony plops down onto the bench and looks up at T’Challa for his answer.

The king takes his time with replying, sitting down first and relaxing into the seat, his gaze wandering over the distant sea.

“My country is doing well, thank you for inquiring. What about your family?”

“Eh, Peter’s complaining about school, so I’d say he’s pretty well. Harley sent me pictures from his family trip last weekend. Looks like they had a fun time.  The bots arrived here whole and well last week. Pepper’s kicking my ass, as usual, Hap likes being back here. He always enjoyed the sunny weather more than New York. And I’m sure you can ask Rhodey yourself.”

“I will do that,” T’Challa nods, “You have a beautiful look over the ocean here.”

“Sure do,” Tony agrees proudly, “I didn’t pick the property just for the ridiculously over the top price, you know.”

 

“T’Challa is a swell guy, sure” Bucky shrugs and mimics throwing something over his shoulders dismissively, “And I owe him a lot. But what does he really have to offer Tony? I’ve heard he has enough money all on his own. He doesn’t need to make pretty eyes at a king. And I do not really peg him as someone who’d get a kick out of ruling a country. He has several thousand employees at his corporation that he’s responsible for. It can’t be all that different.”

 

“I am looking forward to see more of your country. And especially places like this, places that are important to you. In Wakanda we believe that it is as important to learn about a person’s surroundings as it is to get to know the person themselves.”

Tony frowns for a moment, a confused crease forming on his forehead. “Do your people…believe in some deeper meaning behind the connection between human and nature or…?”

“Well, we still are the most technological advanced nation,” T’Challa chuckles, “But that would not be possible if we completely disregarded the land. Many people in our tribes believe strongly in tradition, if that answers your question.”

“That only gives me more questions,” Tony grumbles. T’Challa’s hand gently settles on his lower arm.

“It would be my pleasure to introduce you closer to the many facets of Wakandan culture someday.”

Tony looks at him, surprised at first but his surprise quickly changes into visible delight. “Great. It’s been ages since I’ve had the opportunity to be introduced to an entirely different culture. Any language I should start to learn?”

T’Challa smiles gently to show his appreciation of that question. Not many concern themselves with his country’s language. “Perhaps we can give you a crash course in Wakanda if you’d like. I know some who might enjoy teaching you. But we are all eager for opportunities to practice English as well, seeing as Wakanda is still settling into international politics, so there is no need for you yet.”

“Even better,” Tony laughs in delight, “Private lessons! Can’t wait for it.”

“I am glad to hear that.”

“How can you afford this vacation, anyway? I always thought king would be a full-time job.”

“It is,” T’Challa agrees immediately, “And I have to admit that I was reluctant to participate because of that. But my family promised to take care of it. My mother has taken over most of my duties in the meantime and my sister carries her share of my responsibilities as well.”

“Sounds like one hell of a supportive family.”

“They are.”

“That’s good to hear.” Tony gives T’Challa a genuine smile.

 

Over at the bar, the situation is heading for an escalation. The inevitable thing finally happened, and Stephen and Loki are now talking with each other. Or to be more precise, arguing with each other.

“…or perhaps you would like to experience the vastness of nothing!”

“Oh, what are you going to do? Make me fall for half an hour? Not really original.”

“We can very well see how much you like it, you pitiful charlatan!”

“I have gone toe to toe with beings far more fearsome than you, _trickster_. So if you want to scare off your competition, I suggest you step up your game.”

Of all possible people, Steve Rogers decides to step in. He literally steps in, putting his body between the two men, pushing them slightly apart, one hand on each shoulder.

“Loki, Mister Strange-“

“Doctor.”

“-this is unnecessary. Please, why don’t you both step out for a moment. Take a breath. I don’t think Tony would appreciate you two wrecking this place.”

It is almost breathtaking to watch how in sync Loki and Stephen turn their heads and glare at Steve instead of each other.

“What you think, Captain, is of little consequence to me,” Loki hisses.

“Would be the first time that you actually know what Tony would appreciate,” Stephen sneers.

They talk at the same time, come to a halt at the realization and glare at each other again.

Steve’s ears are flushed red, his cheeks quickly following suit and he opens his mouth.

Thor makes a step forwards, but before he can intervene, Bruce has already come up and gives his best to defuse the situation. Luckily, everybody seems still wary of potentially angering the Hulk and Bruce’s calmness itself is what it takes to coax the three men apart. Peter Quill looks almost disappointed.

 

Tony watches T’Challa, cheek resting in his palm and elbow propped up on the backrest. “What would an ideal date look like for you?”

“When you say ideal date, I do not think of specific activities for that day. In the end, it does not matter what you do as long as both people are comfortable with it. But whatever you end up doing, it is important that it leads to an emotional resonance. Be it with the activity or with the person you go on the date with or ideally both. But what we feel shapes our relationships, so there is little more important to building a relationship than to ensure a rich emotional bond.”

“Do you have any…I dunno, courting traditions in your culture that would seem outlandish to a bland American like me?”

“I cannot think of anything that should strike you as unusual, but I can assure you that you are far from bland, Tony.”

Tony grins coquettishly. “So, flattery is a common thing. Good to know.”

T’Challa answers with a grin of his own. “Is it still flattery when the words are true?”

“If you keep that up, your highness, you will make me blush.”

“Oh, we can’t have that,” T’Challa chuckles, “Not before the first official date.”

“Oh, wow. I’m starting to see why you’re called the Black Panther. You are sleek like one.”

The king of Wakanda lets out a hearty laugh and scratches his beard in embarrassed delight.

Tony slowly pushes himself out of the seat. “Well, this was a lovely conversation but I’m afraid I’ve still got some guys to talk with.”

“Then I shall occupy your time for only one more moment.”

“Is there something else you want to talk about.”

“No, no. I just like the opportunity to enjoy a peaceful evening in such lovely company for a bit longer.”

“Wheedler,” Tony mutters but cannot hide the smile forming on his face.

Happy to have gotten another smile out of him, T’Challa stands up and follows Tony back to the bar.

 

At said bar, the ruffled tempers are somewhat smoothed again. Everyone is a little quieter again, as well. Tony looks at the men he hasn’t talked to yet and swallows as he decides on his next dialog partner. Upon noticing that his left hand starts to tremble, he clenches it into a fist to keep it still and heads over to the smaller group of people. Unwilling to move all in, he comes to a halt and calls out.

“Hey, Metal Arm Solid!”

It does not take Bucky as long to turn around in response as one might expect, applying that nickname to him with more ease than any man from the forties has the right to, and looks at Tony expectantly.

“Wanna talk for a moment?”

“Sure, why not,” Bucky shrugs after a moment silence and steps away from the table.

Steve’s gaze flickers from Bucky to Tony and back again. He almost looks as if he would like to step, something that does not go amiss for the other men. Tony rolls his eyes but does not say anything, instead showing Bucky the way to the more secluded place for talking.

 

Bucky is taking in his surroundings with ill-concealed awe. His gaze is roaming around constantly, always flittering towards the vast sea at the horizon and towards Tony who watches him closely.

“Um…have a seat,” Tony offers with an inviting gesture towards the bench.

“Thanks,” Bucky offers a nervous smile as he sits down, several inches of space between him and Tony. He rests his elbows on his knees, his hands clenching awkwardly as he stops himself from interlacing his fingers.

Both men give each other fleeting glances as an uneasy silence settles in.

“So…” Tony trails of, unsure how to juggle this almost absurd situation.

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees. Immediately, he frowns at himself. There was nothing in Tony’s one-word sentence to agree to. He is far too nervous to even make sense, apparently. What a great start.

After another awkward moment of silence, Tony starts talking haltingly. “Maybe we, uh, should make this officially a fresh start. Clean slate. For both of us. We acknowledge that we both did things we are not proud of, we won’t force each other to apologize and repent and just try to get to know each other a bit beyond that. Sounds good?”

Bucky stares at him, at a loss for words at this offer that he feels is not entirely deserved on his part. Maybe that is only his moderate self-hatred talking, though, which connects to everything the Winter Soldier did under HYDRA’s command.

“Sounds more than good,” he agrees and feels his throat somewhat constricting. Tony is the first person he can think of that acknowledges what he did and decides to look past that afterwards, not from the very beginning. It is not that he is ungrateful for Stevie coming to his defense and absolving him of the horrendous crimes the Winter Soldier committed, but that does not change the fact that Bucky still wakes up screaming sometimes with the feeling of blood on his hands and the afterimage of eyes losing their spark and growing empty. Perhaps after this show, he will actually take Sam up on the offer to help him find a good psychologist.

“Well, then...tell me something about yourself, Buckaroo.”

Bucky focuses on his exhale, tries to expel his nervousness along with his breath and leans back as he starts talking.

“I’m a Brooklyn kid, born and raised. I’ve known Stevie since we’ve both been kids, always had to look out for that little punk when he was getting into fights he couldn’t win.”

Tony clears his throat. Uneasiness is visible in the very way he holds himself. “Not to piss you off or anything, but can we keep Steve out of this as much as possible? I get that you two are sort of a package deal, but I have still some issues with him that make me not appreciate him all that much right now.”

“Sure,” Bucky agrees with a half-hearted shrug and looks at Tony long and silent, trying to figure out what the other is thinking. “You two…used to have some kind of fling, right?”

“Yeah. Up until you two double packed on me in Siberia.” Bucky cringes, as does Tony. “Sorry. We just agreed to leave that stuff behind. It’s just a lot of history tangled all up in itself, so…let’s stick to just you and me for now.”

“Might be best,” Bucky agrees, “Sorry. I’m new to this.”

“Tact?”

“Making smalltalk again. But yeah, that includes tact. Isn’t really programmed into a killing machine, y’know.”

Tony snorts. “It’s not really programmed into any kind of machine. Not even all that much into my AIs. I prefer them openly sassy, even if that tends to come and bite me in the ass.”

“Well, it’s a lovely ass,” Bucky blurts out before his brain catches up with his mouth. As soon as he realizes what he just said, he is mortified. But Tony finally breaks out of his awkward behavior and looks genuinely amused.

“Thanks, popsicle two point oh. Pilates can do wonders. How are you liking the future now that you can enjoy it of your own free will?”

“It has is perks,” Bucky latches onto the topic like onto a life raft, “Modern plumbing is much better than it used to be. The internet is…a thing. Not decided on that, yet. All the kinds of fruit you can buy nowadays are amazing. Clothes got a lot more comfortable. But the amount of batshit crazy in the world has at least quadrupled.”

“Only quadrupled?”

“Yeah, I’ve been through some crazy stuff before, compared to that it’s only about quadrupled.”

“Alright then.”

 

“Bucky Barnes really thinks he has a shot at this? The man that killed Tony’s parents?” Rhodey scoffs at the camera and shakes his head, crossing his arms. “Get outta here. How did he even get approved?”

 

“I don’t approve of your stay at Wakanda though,” Tony makes sure to add a friendly chuckle to show Bucky he is merely joking, “That will make it so much harder to bedazzle you with my awesome tech.”

“Didn’t you say in your last interview on the news that you like a good challenge?” Bucky smiled to assure Tony that he got the hint and that joking like this is alright for him.

Tony only sighs dramatically. “Aren’t you about a hundred years old? You should not be allowed to know how to watch TV that well.”

“I’ve been brainwashed, not braindead, sugar,” Bucky scoffs good-naturedly, “It’s not that hard to figure out and there were already TVs in the forties.”

Tony raises his eyebrows. “And you owned one?”

“…no,” Bucky relents, “But Misses O’Leary down the street did. And I got some opportunities to catch up since then.”

“I’m not sure that’s enough qualification to enter my workshop.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, tragic, really. I work on the really fun toys down there. And that’s where I keep my sweetest rides. Maybe I will grant you a look anyway. Do you like cars?”

“Hell yeah,” Bucky nodded with fervor, “The flying car was actually the reason I went to Stark Expo in ’43. I love anything high-octane, always have.”

Tony, momentarily forgetting the awkward distance between them, enthusiastically claps Bucky on the back.

“Alright then, Need for Speed, that decides it. You will be granted a snoop around my hallowed halls.”

The smile Bucky shoots him in return is wide and brilliant and so very honest. “I’ll hold you up to that, dollface.”

“Great. Man, I think we’re off to a better start than I expected,” Tony admits but sounds far less sure after the endearment, “What do you say? Should we end this talk on that high note?”

“Seems like a good idea,” Bucky agrees, also somewhat flustered and stands up.

On their way back, he still takes in the scenery around him, especially the ocean.

 

At the bar, Steve quickly waves Bucky back to their table to ask him about all the details of his and Tony’s chat which Bucky does not want to disclose since he is still busy mulling everything over in his own head.

Tony, after giving Bucky a last glance, heads to the only alien he has not talked to yet. The blond Asgardian greets him with all of his usual enthusiasm.

“Anthony, how is your eve developing so far?”

“Different than I expected, Point Break, but not in a bad way. I think. Would you brighten it a bit more with a little chat?”

“It would be my honor. Do you object to me bringing my mug of mead along?”

“Not at all, Lightning McQueen. Not at all.”

“Then please lead the way.”

And that Tony does.

 

As they sit down on the bench, Thor carefully places his mead on the little table next to it.

“You opened a most impressive home up to us here, Anthony.”

“Please, Thor. We’ve been team mates for years, we’ve been friends for years. You have called me Tony before. Can you continue with that? I don’t like my full name all that much.”

“With your permission, gladly, Tony. I merely did not wish to assume or impose at this point of a feasible shift in the bond of our camaraderie.”

“That’s very considerate of you, big guy. Thanks.” Tony falls silent, a contemplating look crossing his face. Thor takes notice of it, as well, and waits for what else Tony has to say. “I guess I should extend you the same courtesy. Is it alright for you that I call you all these nicknames?”

“I do know that it is a part of how you express your affection, Tony. But I have to admit that it warms my heart to hear my name fall from your lips every now and then.”

Tony smirks at Thor. “I will try to remember that then, Thor.”

Thor smiles back in delight and takes a swig of his mead.

 

“Most women of Midgard may start salivating at the sight of my brother,” Loki gripes, “But Anthony is neither female nor like most other people. I honestly expect him to have better taste than just fall for that pair of blue eyes and large muscles because Thor smiles at him once.”

 

“We haven’t really had a chance to talk during that whole… Thanos thing. I’m sorry to hear that Asgard is gone, buddy. Must be really hard for you.”

Thor’s smile wavers and raw pain flitters across his face. As if out of a reflex, Tony reaches out and consolingly pats Thor’s triceps.

“At the end of everything, Asgard is not a place but its people. And half my people are still alive. Losing so many is horrible to bear but when I remember Thanos’ cruelty and might, I am glad to have any of my brethren left.”

“Well, I’m sure glad the we still have you, too. But…how are you feeling? Are you working through it?”

“…do you mean to inquire whether I am speaking with one of your healers of minds?” Thor asks after a prolonged moment of silence.

“If that is something that you think could help you,” Tony shrugs. He does not want to come off too strong, but he actually thinks it is a good idea for Thor to see a therapist.

“No,” Thor admits, “Not…not yet, at least. I am still in a state where I have to figure some things out for myself before I can start talking about them with anyone else.”

“But…you’d be willing to? Get help if you need to?” Tony prods a bit further. “No matter where, no matter who. If you wanna talk to me or to your brother or maybe to someone who hasn’t actually lost their mind to a certain degree yet…”

“I thank you for your offer, Tony.” Thor gives him another smile, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. “And I will honor it, should the need arise. But tell me, how are you faring? How is your young ward?”

“Good. Good…Peter is probably freaking out a little bit, as soon as he hears about this. He’s always asking if he can somehow meet you. Between the two us, I think he’s got a little crush on you.” Tony smiles fondly, thinking of the enthusiastic way Peter likes to gush about the god of thunder in. Letting his look trail along Thor’s frame and defined muscles, a small smirk forms on his face. “At least he has good taste.”

Thor leans over, smiling back. His voice is reduced to a warm hum. “I suppose that is something the two of you have in common.”

Tony feels the heat creep up his cheeks. He tries to fight it, but without success. He is really honest-to-god blushing.

“Oh, stop it, you,” he snarks back good-naturedly, but half serious, “I’m afraid, our time is up anyway, so let’s head over to the others. I hope you enjoy the mead?”

“Indeed I do,” Thor hastily assures Tony as he stands up, “You have ensured most excellent provisions for all of us.”

 

Back at the bar, Thor rejoins Loki and Bruce. Tony notices the expectant looks of both Steve and Stephen resting on him. But he has another idea, his decision made. He approaches someone he already talked to.

“Jude? Can I snatch you away for another second?”

Jude, surprised but delighted, nods and follows Tony indoors. There, Tony turns around and presents Jude with a red rose.

“This is the first impression rose. I already know all these guys out there, today they made a second impression at best. Except for you. And you made one hell of a first impression on me, so I’d like you to have it. Jude, will you accept this rose?”

A broad smile splits Jude’s face and he nods, already reaching for the offered flower.

“Of course I will. Thank you, Tony.” As his fingers close around the stalk, Jude leans forward and presses a kiss on Tony’s cheek. As he pulls back, he holds the rose up to inhale its scent. Tony smiles somewhat dopily and clears his throat.

“Great. That’s all I wanted to talk about with you. I still have someone left to talk to, so…”

“Oh, yes. Of course.” Jude carefully twirls the rose between his fingers as he follows Tony back out, where the engineer is already heading over to the tall dark-haired sorcerer and taps him on the shoulder

“Saving the best for last?” Stephen inquires, sprouting a smirk with the capability to rival one of Tony’s, and offers his arm.

“If that makes you feel better,” the engineer rolls his eyes but replies in kind, slipping his hand around the crook of Stephen’s elbow and steers him towards the back of the house.

 

With a sigh, Tony flops down onto his seat. Stephen watches him in amusement and sits down with some – although not much – more grace than Tony.

“Be honest with me, Stephen,” Tony opens the dialogue and immediately pauses for dramatic effect, “How annoyed is Wong that you’re leaving him alone with guarding all of reality to flirt with a guy in a can?”

Stephen chuckles. It is almost disconcerting how easily Tony Stark and Wong, out of all people on the planet, get along.

“Well…I think you might have to offer him a front row seat at the wedding after this to make up for it.”

“Hell, I’ll even make him a bridesmaid if he wants.”

“You’ll have to ask him that,” Stephen guffaws, “I am not going to be near either of you during that particular conversation.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be a bridesmaid, Stephen.”

“I never said there was.”

“Ah, ah, ah.” Tony wriggles his finger at Stephen mischievously. “Subtext and implication matter, my dear doctor.”

“And what does the implication of me being here tell you?”

“That your taste in men is as good as your taste in ice cream.”

“My taste in all things is superb, thank you very much.”

Tony scoffs affectionately. “Not in everyday clothes it isn’t.”

“Excuse you,” Stephen shoots back with a mock gasp, “I am the only hero who can actually pull off a cloak, present demigods excluded.”

Tony bursts into laughter. “You…well, you are not wrong. I was hoping for your cloak, to be honest. I can’t believe you missed this opportunity.”

“Oh, it’s…along. Probably still in my suitcase. It does not really go well with a more classically elegant. I can assure you that the cloak is likely to bother you often enough. It’s taken a liking to you.”

“Yeah, well, your cloak obviously has great tastes, too. And I happen to I like it too.”

 

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Tony ‘I hate magic’ Stark interested in a wizard? I don’t think so.” Steve looks very satisfied at his assessment of the situation and crosses his arms to bring across his point.

 

Stephen’s knee brushes against Tony’s as he shifts in his seat to get more comfortable.

“Are you regretting partaking in this show now that it’s started, Tony?”

“Maybe,” Tony sighs dully, “Honestly, I did not expect a single one of you to turn up as a contestant and with half of you, I don’t even know how to feel about it.”

“Do you know how to feel about it with me?”

“Not really. But with you that’s not as bad as it is with others.” Tony flashes him an honest but fleeting smile to reassure him.

“That’s good to hear,” Stephen admits quietly, averting his eyes because all these emotions make him a tad uncomfortable.

Tony shudders demonstratively. “Ugh, alright. That’s enough sappiness for one evening. Come on, doc, let’s – let’s go back. There are some roses waiting to be given away.”

Stephen raises an eyebrow, taking note but not vocally pointing out that Tony hasn’t talked to Steve yet. Instead, he stands up and follows Tony back, having several things to think about.

 

As they reach the bar, Steve looks up from his discussion with T’Challa and mutters an excuse to the king, heading over towards Tony. Tony, however, clears his throat and claps his hands together to demand everyone’s attention which he has immediately.

“Gentlemen, I hope you’ve had a good evening so far. We’re done now with the introduction talks, so that – and Viz has to correct me if I’m wrong – only leaves the rose ceremony for today.”

Vision joins the group of people from off-side, caught off-guard from the slight deviation of the script and that the schedule is moved along.

Steve raises his voice. “But I-“

“Very well,” Vision declares, being desperately lost and staring at his presenter cards as if they might offer him a solution, “If we are already that far, I am asking all of you to step inside, please. We will carry out the rose ceremony in a moment.”

 

The ten men are assembled in two lines, facing Tony who is standing next to a small table on which there are eight roses. Nobody makes a sound and all eyes are trained on Vision, who is standing between Tony and the ten contestants like a mediator.

“Not everybody will be able to stay here and have a shot at winning Tony’s heart,” the synthezoid announces, “And the evening is almost over. By now, Tony has hopefully decided on who will stay and who must go. So, without further ado, let us begin with the rose ceremony.”

And with these words, Vision heads over to Tony’s side.

Tony takes a step forwards and lifts the first rose from the table. He lets his gaze trail over all the men in front of him. “Well,” he starts, “What a first evening, am I right? The first impression rose is, of course, already handed out. That means, Jude, you are safe.”

Jude, in reply, gently pulls his rose out of the breast pocket on the inside of his suit jacket and smells at it, giving Tony a gentle smile.

“Rhodey.”

Rhodey takes a step forward, not even suppressing the grin that forms on his lips. Being called out first can only mean that he will continue.

“I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that you’re competing here, platypus, but I cannot imagine who I’d rather have along for the following weeks. Will you accept this rose?”

“Of course, I will,” Rhodey replies and plucks the Rose from Tony’s hand, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek before returning to the waiting men.

“Peter.”

Peter smiles broadly as he swaggers closer towards Tony who is already holding the next rose in his hands.

“It’s exciting to have you here and I’m looking forward to introduce you to much more great things about Earth in the next weeks. Will you accept this rose?”

“Sure do.” Peter’s peck on the cheek is far closer to the edge of Tony’s mouth than Rhodey’s were and he quickly, playfully sticks his tongue out at the other contestants before retaking his place in line.

“Stephen.”

Stephen advances two steps, looking expectantly at Tony.

“What can I say, my decision is a no-brainer if you ask me. Will you accept this rose?”

“Gladly,” Stephen answers. He gives Tony a hug and a kiss on the cheek as well as he plucks the flower from his fingers.

“Loki. I – I must be out of my mind but I’m actually curious to see where we might be headed. Will you accept this rose?”

Loki accepts the flower gracefully and offers a kiss on the hand in return. He looks positively gleeful at Thor, no doubt enjoying that he received a rose before his brother.

“Thor. It’s been a delight, so far. Let’s see what will happen. Enjoy some quiet downtime in between. Will you accept this rose?”

“Verily,” Thor booms, utter delight shining on his face. At first, he raises Tony’s hand for a kiss as well, but then halfway decides differently and gives him a hug. The hug is strong and tight, but gentle instead of bone-crushing and Thor presses his cheek against Tony’s, only hinting at a kiss.

“T’Challa, it’s no catnip but perhaps you will enjoy this plant anyway. Do you accept this rose?”

“It is my delight to,” T’Challa announces. He opts for a hug and a kiss on the cheek as well.

“Bruce. Maybe we can up our oxytocin and dopamine production along the way. This looks like a good first step for that. Will you accept this rose?”

“I do,” Bruce chuckles and heads over to Tony. He takes the rose and engulfs Tony in a hug. For a moment, Tony presses his forehead against Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce, gathering up all his courage, tilts his head to give the other a peck on the cheek. As he returns to the others, he is blushing furiously.

For a long moment, Tony is silent, twirling the rose in his fingers. Then-

“…Bucky.”

Bucky steps closer, his attention solely on Tony, arms behind his back in a parade’s rest.

“As I said, clean slate for us. Clean slates are usually white, or so I assume, but I’ve got no white roses here. Will you accept this red one, anyway.”

Bucky smiles nervously and nods. “’course,” he finally manages as his fingers of flesh close around the flower’s stem.

That leaves one man – one supersoldier, but no flowers.

Tony stares coldly at Steve, crossing his arms and biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself determined. “I don’t have a rose for you. Get out of here, Steve.”

Steve looks absolutely crushed as he walks up to Tony and offers his hand. Tony takes it and gives it a squeeze, perhaps a little brusquer than he intends to. He has to physically prevent his left hand from trembling but loses that particular fight. He looks into Steve’s eyes and for a moment, as he remembers with full force how much he used to love this man, his breath is knocked out of him. He mentally screams at himself to keep his resolve up. That this is the right decision.

 

Stephen shrugs at the camera somewhat helplessly but still sprouting a self-satisfied smirk. “To be honest, I was a bit worried about the competition Rogers would pose. But I suppose now is not the best time to start looking gift horses in the mouth.”

 

Steve makes his farewells to the men he knows, getting a consoling pat on the back from Bucky as they hug and a couple of sympathetic words from Bruce.

As Steve exits the door, Vision floats forward and addresses the remaining contestants.

“That is it for today. All of you will be shown to your rooms immediately. Please take your time getting comfortable. Tomorrow is a new day bringing new dates with new chances. This is the moment to bid our viewers goodbye as well. Tune in next time to find out how the fight for Tony Stark’s heart continues. Have a good night.”

 

* * *

 

@uptogossip: Up to date with UpToGossip! Read everything about #btse’s #IronMan and #CaptainAmerica’s newly revealed star-crossed romance over the years! https://www.uptogossip.com/538/c7sdu4zit67

@mirrorrorrim: Man, no wonder I can’t find a good-looking guy. They’re all busy trying to get into Iron Man’s pants! #btse

@cori_j: That Peter guy has the cutest dimples #btse

@toddzter7478: If only we had known how to out an embarrassingly high number of “superheroes” as gay embarrassingly fast earlier… #btse #boycottthebachelor #notmyavengers

          @hawkeyesleftbuttcheek answered: what kind of heteronormative bs is this lol #queervengers

     @mysuperpowerissuperqueer reblogged with comment: Please keep this biphobic trash off my dash

               @achtungichwilltanzen answered: That rhymes! And everything that rhymes is true, so…

@tiredmillenial: Lmao…all superheroes are thirsty for Tony Stark finally confirmed #btse

@jakemeup answered: This is blatant Loki erasure and I won’t stand for it! #SupervillainsAreThirstyForTonyStarkToo

@giuliagiuliermo: Didn’t Loki throw him out of a window once?? #btse

          @jibberjabber answered: Maybe that’s a symbolic act of courtship on Asgard? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

          @sweetestsummerchild answered: If I were as pretty as Loki, I’d throw anyone prettier than me out of a window first and only dated them if they survived, too.

@realjustinhammer: Sad what some people do to get attention when their business can’t keep up with the competition… #btse

          @riririlliams answered: Like spamming a hashtag with their butt-hurt negativity? [IMAGE ATTATCHED]

@inkandpaper: THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH WANTING TO BE A BRIDESMAID, STEPHEN DASFGDSAFGDSFG ARE THEY SURE THEY AREN’T MARRIED ALREADY?? #btse

@pihuphiu: Stark’s expressions when he sees each contestant for the first time…pure reaction image gold #btse

          @marvellous_kamkha answered: Let the memeing commence! \o/

                    @defadisneyprincess answered: DID U JUST SAY MEMES??? [IMAGE ATTATCHED]

 

* * *

 

What the cameras do not capture and what the audience does not get to see is how Steve Rogers leaves. No longer in his suit, his bag thrown over his shoulders, he walks down the lane leading away from the mansion’s gate. He stops to turn around and give the house a long look. He never visited the original one before it got blown up so he cannot draw any comparisons to how it used to be. But he can still exactly picture the way Tony is probably hunched over a workbench right now, pushing his safety goggles onto his nose and mussing his hair up in the process, lighting up a blowtorch and sticking the tip of his tongue between his teeth in concentration, working on some new technical miracle. His heart feels as if it clenches into itself and he misses what they had so much it physically hurts. What they had was grand and special and it went up in flames in a way neither of them deserved. Something like their relationship is always special, Steve is dead certain about that. It is something rare, something worth fighting for.

The renewed realization hits him. If it is worth fighting for, he has to do just that. It is in his nature. It is who he is. He has to fight for it and not give up at the first sign of trouble. After everything that happened, he has to openly show how much he is willing to beat the odds, the circumstances and the difficulties. Tony and him always were against the odds, together despite everything in their lives. He cannot let the universe push them apart anymore.

With the certainness, a decision manifests. And with the decision, the sadness slowly drips off his face and forms into determination and a spark of hope. Just what always keeps Steve Rogers going. He has never been one to give up easily. So he is going to do the only thing he can think of. Fight for Tony’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If writing a comment is not enough for you, come find me at https://soaracrossthesky.tumblr.com/ to yell at me, talk with me or even ask me questions.


	4. Episode 2 Part 1 - Two single dates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second episode of The Bachelor premiers! Who will be the lucky guy to snatch the very first date of the competition? And who has to live up to that first impressioin at the second one? And after the commercial break there is even another date and the rose ceremony on the horizon? Better enjoy the show before it's over again!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, here we are! Sorry for the slight delay, guys. Real life is keeping me a bit busier than usual atm. I hope you'll find that the wait was worth it. Today we have the first two dates, next time we will conclude the second episode.
> 
> Thank all of you so, so much for your continued support, kudos and comments. They really keep me going and make writing this even more fun than it already is.  
> This is not beta read and English is not my first language. Please enjoy.

Morning dawns over Malibu and the rising sun bathes the city in warm light, orange streaks coloring the sky and promising a warm day. Despite it still being early, people are already going about their business in the Stark House.

 

T’Challa is enjoying a thorough soak in his bathtub, head tilted back in relaxed pleasure. Bubbles coat the water’s surface and a small set of boxes, connected to a sleek smartphone, is gently playing music.

 

Bruce has rolled out a yoga mat in his room and is just entering the lotus pose, still clad in his pajamas trousers and a plain tee. His bed is already made and clothes for the day are lying on top of the blanket, waiting to be put on after a shower following his morning exercise.

 

Tony is humming along to a Black Sabbath song and drumming a pen on the table to the beat as he studies the three-dimensional holographic blueprint of a repulsor thruster and something in the shape of a sleek, simple board. In the back of the workshop, DUM-E is rolling up to a shelf and extends its claw to pick up a bottle of oil. Halfway back to his destination, the canister slips from the bot’s claws and with an audible _thump_ and oil splattering everywhere hits the ground. DUM-E makes a string of sad beeps and lowers its claw with a forlorn whir.

Tony does not even look up from the schematics as he scolds the machine. “Keep going like that and I’ll donate you to a rubber band factory. We’ve already got Butterfingers around to be a klutz.” An offended beep sounds from the other end of the room where assumedly Butterfingers is standing. “Shhh, I gotta concentrate.”

 

Bucky is standing at a small road intersection and is slightly lost but, all too aware of the camera team following him, he tries very hard not to show it openly. His long hair is pulled up into a bun and the back of his grey shirt is soaked with sweat. His breath comes out in small puffs and his cheeks are flaming red. His trainers are coated with a crust of mud around the soles. Perhaps, he decides with a huff, it was not the best idea to go for a morning run without knowing the area, as he stretches his arms. Well, arm, to be precise. The other one does not require such exercises to be fully operational at any given moment. Frustrated, he squints at the sun as he tries to backtrack in his mind and remember how to return to the mansion.

 

Stephen is standing in the kitchen, fiddling with the high-tech coffee machine and trying to figure out the countless settings in a way that leaves him with an acceptable beverage as a result. That task proves to be more difficult than one might expect for two reasons. One, Tony himself designed the coffee machine and invented twenty-three settings to add to the standard ones. Two, half of Stephen’s attention is focused on the newspaper that is floating in the air next to him, a yellow glow surrounding the edges and flipping pages every now and then at a small wave of his hand. A red cloak is hovering just slightly above the sorcerer’s shoulders and twists at the collar as if looking around the room on its own volition.

Rhodey, who enters the kitchen with a yawn, takes a minute to process the sight of said cloak waving hello at him with a tail. As soon as his brain registers what he is seeing, he stops in his track and stares at the magical artifact with unbelieving eyes.

“Ah, good morning colonel,” Stephen greets him distractedly, “I would offer you a cup of coffee but I’m afraid I have no idea how this particular machine works.”

Rhodey snorts in amusement. “Nobody really does, except for Tony. You just have to know how to bypass problems.”

Stephen crosses his arms expectantly, watching Rhodey to get a solution provided.

“FRIDAY, be so nice and get the coffee machine to make us two cups. My usual and…err, doctor?”

“I’ll have an Americano if that’s possible.”

“Of course it is,” FRIDAY’s voice echoes through the kitchen and without any further prompting, the coffee machine splutters to life and the grinding mechanism audibly gets to work.

Rhodey, giving the autonomous cloak a wide berth, heads over to the fridge and starts rummaging for some eggs.

 

“Boss,” FRIDAY pulls Tony out of his train of thought, “There’s a delivery man at the front door for you.”

Tony puts his pen down with a frown, ransacking his brain but without success.

“Was anything ordered?”

“Nothing that is stored in my database.”

“Huh. Okay. I’ll be right up. Be a dear, save the progress on the file and then close everything. I don’t think I’ll get much more done on it today.”

“Alright.”

Sighing, Tony stands up from his seat and heads for the door. “Don’t wreck the workshop while I’m gone, kids,” he calls over his shoulder at the bots who beep and chirp in response. “So much check,” he mutters amusedly as he pulls the door close and climbs the staircase.

 

To his boundless astonishment, the delivery man is from a florist shop, of all places. The nervous red-head is holding a bouquet in his hands and grows a tad starry-eyed when Tony appears in the doorframe.

“Morning.”

“Good morning, Mister Stark. Um, I’ve got a delivery for you. Err…Here you go.”

He attempts to hand over the flowers, but Tony shoves his hands into his trouser pockets almost out of reflex. “Ah,” he clears his throat, “Sorry, I don’t like people handing me things. If you don’t mind putting them down there…” He takes a step to the side and points at a small dresser inside the hallway.

“Of course not,” the bearer of flowers hastily assures and does as suggested. Then, he steps outside again and hesitates for a moment. “Have a nice day, Mister Stark.”

“You too.”

The redhead smiles broadly as he heads back to his car. Meanwhile, Tony closes the door and looks at the bouquet of red and white flowers, entirely stumped.

 

Loki, pristinely groomed and dressed in a more casual but still visibly Asgardian outfit, enters the kitchen and sits down at the large dining table. With a snap of his fingers and a flicker of magic, he activates the coffee machine. Stephen, cup raised to his lips to take a sip, looks at the camera as if he were a character on The Office.

 

Still sprouting the most perplexed expression, Tony trots into the kitchen, bouquet in his hands. He zeroes in on Rhodey sitting at the table. “Honey bear, look at this. I got flowers.” His voice is hollow as his brain is still busy with processing the fact.

The first thing Rhodey decides to do is choke on his bite of scrambled eggs and dissolve into a coughing fit. Tony gallantly slaps him on the back three times until the offending piece of egg is dislodged and his windpipe is no longer blocked.

“That’s, uh,” Rhodey coughs awkwardly, “Do you – know who they’re from?”

Tony shakes his head. “No note, no card, no anything. And the delivery guy didn’t say anything, either.”

“Well, they…look nice,” Rhodey ventures forth carefully.

“I guess so,” Tony agrees with a shrug, still contemplating the flowers like a complex equation, “I should probably put them in a vase. Do you think they’ll look good in the living room?”

Rhodey does not answer. His brows are drawn into a frown and he stares into nothingness as egg trickles from his spoon back onto the plate. His mind is suddenly as busy as Tony’s, compiling a list and assessing who is most likely to have sent the flowers. He doesn’t look thrilled, the further he gets on with his calculations.

“Probably. Red tends to fit with your style and white goes with almost everything,” Stephen replies instead and takes another sip from his cup once again. He also decides to become engrossed in the newspaper again.

Tony goes for one cupboard at the far end of the kitchen, close to the sink, opens a door and pulls out a simple but beautiful crystal vase which he puts into said sink and then proceeds to turn on the faucet.

“Fri, be so good and set a daily reminder to check the water in the vase.”

“Noted, boss.”

Once the vase is halfway filled with water, Tony places the flowers in it and picks the whole ensemble up again. As he turns to leave, he notices that Stephen is reading the newspaper. “Hey, Doc. You gonna read the financial part?”

Stephen continues to read an article as he pulls a couple of pages out of the newspaper and holds them up. “Here you go.”

Tony tucks them under his arm. And before Stephen can protest, he also steals a piece of toast from the sorcerer’s plate and presses a peck on his cheek before leaving, already taking a bite out of the bread and paying his actions and their consequences no mind.

Stephen’s knuckles turn white from the pressure he grips his cup with as he tries to will his ferociously rising blush away. He is so busy restraining himself, he does not even notice the enraged glare Loki might as well try to kill him with nor the huff which accompanies Rhodey’s eye-roll.

“At least he took your breakfast and not mine.”

 

Bruce’s hair is still damp from the shower when he descends the stairs. He is not really familiar with FRIDAY yet, his green counterpart having left just as Tony had installed her, but he asks her politely if it is possible that the water boiler already starts heating up water for a cup of tea. Back in the day, JARVIS had started to activate the electric kettle when Bruce was on his way towards the kitchen after a couple of weeks. It had been a nice morning routine. Comforting. It is almost a relief when the newer AI gives a positive reply. He ponders on how the strangest little things can make one feel more at home just as Tony enters the common area and places a vase full of red and white flowers on the coffee table.

There is that crinkle between Tony’s eyebrows that usually appears when he is faced with a puzzle he cannot solve immediately. It is a very endearing look and Bruce decided soon after seeing it for the first time that he likes it very much. He really misses working in a lab with the other genius.

“Good morning.”

“Morning, Brucie bear,” the frown immediately clears away into a delighted smile as Tony turns around to reply to him, “How are you this fine morning? Did you salute the sun properly?”

Bruce hums in affirmation. “Who are those flowers from?”

 

Rhodey stares unhappily into the camera. “I’m pretty sure those flowers are from Rogers. He better not try anything stupid or I’ll kick is ass. At least I think Tony doesn’t know.”

 

“Steve, I’m guessing, but why let some nice flowers go to waste because of that,” Tony’s look grows a bit distant immediately, “Well, if I am interpreting them correctly.”

“What do you mean?” Bruce steps closer to examine the flowers with mild interest.

“Red carnations. They are traditionally used for an apology. And stars of Bethlehem indicate a wish for reconciliation…at least, it’s a step up from his apology letter writing skills.”

Bruce’s mouth has fallen open during the explanation and he stares at Tony in surprise. “I did not expect you to know anything about hidden meanings of flowers, if I’m honest.”

Tony gives him an impish smile and waggles his eyebrows. “Oh, Brucie bear, I like to always be full of surprises. You see, I learned the language of flowers back when I was…ehhh, about twenty? Maybe twenty-one? I just started slowly taking over major responsibility at SI and…well, let’s just say I wasn’t always known for my angelic behavior. And back then I couldn’t afford yet to do what I wanted. I had to apologize often, but most of the time I didn’t really want to. So…”

“…so, you decided to let the flowers talk for you, no matter whether the recipient understood it or not?” Bruce finishes in his stead, a mischievous grin spreading over his face. Tony nods and Bruce shakes his head, chuckling. “Only you, Tony. Only you.”

“What can I say, I like having the last word.”

“That you do.”

“Oi!”

“You just said it yourself!”

“Yeah, but I’m allowed to say that. You’re supposed to try and charm me.”

“My mistake, I didn’t realize you preferred suck-ups.”

“I think I need to send you some flowers to tell you that you are rude.”

“Please do, I love getting flowers.”

“And greedy!”

Both men are grinning widely at each other, enjoying the easy banter, when T’Challa enters from the hallway with a mildly concerned expression.

“Please excuse my interruption, gentlemen. I do not wish to alarm you, Tony, but the electric kettle just activated for the third time in a row without prompting. No one of us is really sure what caused the malfunction but we deemed it wise to inform you.”

Bruce ducks his head, alternating between amusement and embarrassment. “That, ah, is my fault, I’m afraid. That was supposed to be my tea water but I got delayed. I suppose Friday wanted to keep it boiling for me. I should probably…” He trails off and looks at Tony, gesturing towards the general direction of the kitchen, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips.

Tony snorts and waves him off. “Go on and deliver them from the unspeakable terror. I’ll join you in a sec.”

T’Challa has barely opened his mouth to inquire after how well Tony slept when a loud yawn from the stairs demands everybody’s attention. Peter, hair ruffled artfully, descends from the upper floor, stretching his arms in an exaggerated manner and poorly hiding his open mouth behind a hand and turns towards Tony.

“Morning, handsome. Tell me, who do I have to bribe for a decent breakfast?”

“Hello there, sleepyhead. That would be FRIDAY, she’s in charge of everything around here and keeps an eye on the stored food.”

“And where is she?”

Tony wordlessly swipes his arm around in a way that encases the whole room.

“Just ask for me, Mister Quill, and I will help if I can be of assistance,” FRIDAY introduces herself to the surprised man. He gapes at the ceiling, like most people do when first introduced to the concept of one of Tony’s AIs.

“Woah.”

Tony lays down some basic rules, counting each point at one finger of his right hand. “Be nice to her, say thanks and please every now and then, don’t call her an it by accident, don’t disrespect her just for her zeros and ones – ‘cause they’re beautiful I’ll have you know – and then the two of you should get along like a house on fire.”

“Sweet.” Peter grins and addresses the ceiling again, “So, FRIDAY, my pal, my gal, we definitely should get acquainted better.”

“That sounds agreeable,” the Irish voice replies, “If you are still in search of breakfast, however, may I direct you towards the kitchen.”

“May? You must!”

Tony grins at Peter’s back. There really is little he enjoys as much as people actually interacting with his baby girl in a manner that will help her learn become more and not like she is just some kind of house-keeping program.

 

T’Challa huffs at the camera. “Oh, Peter knows exactly how to play his charm and inconvenience everybody else at the same time, I have to give him that.”

 

“Suck it, kitty cat,” Peter crows giddily, “It was so obvious he wanted a quiet moment with Tony, no doubt to sink his claws in, but fate obviously knew that I had to stop that. Then again, my timing is always great.”

 

All the residents have found their way to the kitchen. Thor is currently standing at the stove, wearing an apron and flipping a giant pancake with a flick of the pan, Jude is sitting in front of a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice and Bruce is carefully pouring another bout of hot water over the fresh tea leaves in his cup. Stephen has finished the newspaper which has been claimed by T’Challa since. Bucky is involved in a tentative, almost civil conversation with Rhodey. Peter is as good as inhaling his plate full of bacon and eggs and Loki is watching everyone as if he were their designated regent.

Only Tony has disappeared into another room because Pepper called him with some pressing Stark Industries business that needs delicate handling.

Vision floats into the room, today without the formal attire but still with his cape fluttering in his wake.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” he greets the men in front of him, some of whom reply in kind, “I hope all of you have settled in well and are ready for the first week to begin properly.”

Exited chatter breaks out all around the table as soon as the contestants realize that Vision is about to announce the first date of the show.

“All of you are going to have an exciting time ahead of you, all of you are going to have a chance to fall in love. But falling in love has to start somewhere, and a first date is usually a very good place for that.”

Peter whoops in excitement, careless about the annoyed looks he gets from Loki and T’Challa for his childish behavior. Vision holds up a plain white envelope.

“And in here the first lucky man will receive his invitation to said first date. Have a wonderful day.” He places the envelope on the table and turns to leave. Before anyone else can react, Thor already snatches the piece of paper up and carefully untucks it to pull out an equally white card. He reads the content and smiles into the round of eager faces. The god of thunder visibly enjoys the anxious silence as they wait for him to read out loud.

“Stephen,” he finally announces with a flourish, beaming at the sorcerer who looks surprised for a moment before smirking into the round with a puffed chest. Bruce congratulates him quietly and T’Challa inclines his head in polite agreement. Loki’s miniscule smile is forced with a hard edge to it and his eyes cold as Jötunheim itself.

 

“He gets a distracted kiss and the first date?” Loki raves at the camera and huffs dramatically as he flings a lock of his hair back with a jerk of his head. “He is undeserving of all that attention. Arrogant would-be magician.”

 

“Let’s steer into unknown waters. Tony,” Thor continues with a look at the card, “Congratulations are in order, friend Stephen. May you enjoy a pleasing day of courtship.”

“Thank you very much, Thor,” Stephen replies, his voice a tad softer than his smirk at the obviously honest good wishes.

 

Stephen grins victoriously at the camera. “Of course I wanted the first date. Everybody wanted it. Anyone who says differently is lying. This is about spending as much time with Tony as possible and I was his first choice. What better way to start off this week and deepen our relationship could there even be.”

 

Stephen is standing in front of his wardrobe, rifling through his shirts and pondering what to wear when FRIDAY breaks the silence in his room.

“Doctor Strange.”

“Yes, FRIDAY?”

“Boss is asking you to pick your most touristy outfit for the date. His words.” Of that, Stephen has no doubt. He snorts and tells her as much.

“And what in Vishanti’s name does he mean with touristy?” He drenches the last word in such disdain as if it describes an absolutely disgusting condition.

After a few seconds of silence, FRIDAY replies. “He recommends casual clothing, shorts perhaps and sunglasses are advisable in the Californian heat anyway. He also insists on a Hawaiian shirt if there is one in your possession.”

Stephen grimaces in disgust. “And that’s coming from someone lauded publicly for his fashion sense? A Hawaiian shirt? Did one of his armors drop on his head or something?”

“There is no record in my files of an accident like that, doctor.”

“Never mind. Tell him he can wear a Hawaiian shirt himself if he is such a fan of them. I’m too much of a New Yorker to commit that kind of atrocity.”

 

Half an hour later, Stephen regrets his words as Tony Stark descends the stairs clad in a pair of khaki shorts, black flip flops and an unbuttoned red Hawaiian shirt spotted with little golden Iron Man helmets on top of a creamy shirt that is tucked into the trousers at the front. A dimmed blue light shimmers through the fabric covering his chest.

“I cannot believe you were voted sexiest man alive for three consecutive years,” is his flatly stated greeting. The worst thing, Stephen decides, is that he can actually pull that look off somewhat decently, no matter how ludicrous it is.

“I look absolutely fabulous,” Tony shoots back, “Just because you don’t know how to appreciate an outfit, Stephanie, doesn’t mean it’s trash. And why do you know how often I’ve been sexiest man alive in a row?”

“Oh, don’t think you’re something special, eidetic memory clutters up my brain with all kinds of useless information.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“I’m almost sure this will give me nightmares.”

 

“A disagreement before the date even starts? Color me surprised,” T’Challa sniffs, “With two such opinionated people.”

 

“Oh, the outfit is definitely trash,” Tony cackles in delight, sliding his sunglasses down his nose so his wink into the camera is visible, “But that is what makes it fun. Also, let’s be honest, if I wear it, I make it into a _hot_ pile of trash. Go big or go home, whichever way you dress each day.”

 

Tony does not respond but eyes Stephen’s outfit critically in return. It consists of a dark pair of pants, sneakers and a Pink Floyd shirt featuring the famous prism converting a single white line into a rainbow. “Could be worse,” he voices his judgement, “Brownie points for your taste in music. Anyway, let’s go. Time’s ticking.”

Stephen is not the only one following Tony outside. Everyone is curious to see them off, maybe sneak a peek at what the first date could entail. Rhodey’s face is telling when a mechanical thumping noise grows louder the farther he gets and as soon as the waiting helicopter appears in his field of vision, he whistles in appreciation. His pilot heart is suddenly very jealous of the former neurosurgeon and he hopes dearly that this will not be the only time the show makes use of it. Even Peter who is used to the sight of the most outlandish of spaceships looks sufficiently impressed.

Stephen eyes the helicopter with slight trepidation but climbs into the backseat nevertheless. Tony waves the remaining contestants good-bye, then he follows his date into the machine. Expertly, he puts on the earphones and straps himself in. A member of the filming crew closes the door and the pilot in the front lets the blades accelerate. Stephen fumbles with his safety belts. After a few moments of awkward fiddling, Tony helps him without prompting. Everything is quickly in place and the helicopter lifts off the ground. Stephen looks out of the window in rapt attention. He kneads his hands, however, and a slight frown mars his brows.

“First time in a chopper?” Tony inquires gently.

“Mhm,” Stephen mutters, “Not a fan of vehicles in general anymore.”

“Oh? Not a cars guy, then? Not that you’d need one, probably, with your nifty little portal spell…”

“On the contrary,” Stephen sighs and turns his head, focusing on Tony instead of his surroundings. “I used to love cars. High-octane. Sportscars. The faster the better. But…” He huffs a nervous laugh and looks at his faintly trembling hands. “But I had an accident. Destroyed my hands, destroyed my career. It was entirely my fault. But it brought me to where I am today. And infused me with an aversion to cars, I’m afraid.”

He quickly diverts his gaze to the outside again, unwilling to see the engineer’s reaction to his revelation. He does not think he could stomach seeing pity directed at him from Tony out of all people. To his utter surprise, Tony’s hand wraps around his own and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“If you’re feeling uncomfortable, I can tell the pilot to land right now and you can alakazam us instead.”

“…aren’t you terrified of portals?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way.”

“I think I can manage as long as you don’t put me behind the wheel of a car.”

“If you’re one hundred percent sure…”

“I am. Thank you for being so considerate.”

Stephen squeezes Tony’s hand in return, trying to show his honest appreciation. It appears to work as the billionaire gives him a fleeting smile before looking down through the side window, admiring the nature passing by.

 

Although the flight is not as horrible to stomach as Stephen dreaded first, he would still be lying if he said he wasn’t glad to have his feet on firm ground again. They are close to a beach – Stephen would also be lying if he said he had any idea where they are without looking out for a city sign or anything.

Tony leads him down a pier where a boat is waiting for them. After the note on the date card, Stephen expected something in this direction but he is still curious where exactly this is going. The ship is empty except for the filming crew, the minimum of required people to staff the ship’s crew and of course Stephen and Tony themselves.

After quickly greeting the crew members, the two of them find a nice spot on deck. Stephen puts one foot on the lowest crossbar and rests his arms on the railing, Tony just leans against it with his back, elbows resting on the wooden slat. The sun light reflects in his sunglasses and the wind tousles his hair. It strikes Stephen how much his date looks like he sprung right from the pages of a glossy magazine. He is breathtaking in an almost casual manner, perhaps even more than he is when fighting mad aliens and saving the universe. Calm joy is an impressively good look on him.

“We are really lucky,” Tony comments out of the blue and Stephen blinks owlishly as he is not sure in which way he means it because Stephen feels incredibly lucky about as good as everything right now, “This is pretty much the perfect weather for a trip on a boat.”

Stephen hums non-committally. “There are some other things I’d count as being lucky, too.”

Tony flashes him a dazzling smile. “And this isn’t even the highlight of this trip.”

Stephen stares at him incredulously. That prompts the other to walk towards a door. He opens it and goes to descend the stairs behind it leading into the boat’s belly, enthusiastically calling for Stephen to follow him. The sorcerer is not all that keen on going inside. He is enjoying the pleasant combination of warmth and a steady breeze far too much., but curiosity and Tony’s presence are enough to push him on.

As soon as he is halfway down the stairs, Stephen understands what Tony means. The belly of the boat is made entirely out of glass and presents them with a breathtaking view into the sea beneath them. In one corner of the room are standing a two-seater and a side table, laid with a platter full of fresh fruit, artfully folded napkins, two champagne flutes and a bucket filled with ice, a green bottle and a carafe filled with orange juice.

Stephen gasps in surprise and turns towards Tony, eyes lit up with excitement. “This is incredible.”

“Told you so,” Tony replies with a smirk and waves him over towards the seats. The boat slowly starts moving and the two of them sway a bit, trying to adjust their balance. Stephen sits down as Tony uncorks the champagne expertly and fills one flute with the bubbling liquid. The other one he fills with orange juice. The latter he keeps for himself, the former he hands over to Stephen as he sits down next to him. He raises his glass for a toast. “To being lucky, then?”

“To being lucky,” Stephen agrees with a smile.

They clink glasses and drink.

 

 

In the meantime, at the mansion Peter is being introduced to the wonders of the internet and YouTube in particular by FRIDAY, much to Rhodey’s abject horror. He already fled the common area when Toxic was blaring from the speakers of the tv which is connected to Quill’s newly acquired laptop, but now even the gym is not far enough away, he still hears rhythmic clucking of chickens mixed with an electronic beat that makes him want to weep in despair and pierce his own eardrums to escape his misery.

 

Peter laughs wholeheartedly at the video and already checks out the line of recommended videos on the side. It does not take him long to become interested in the thumbnail of one of them. “Whoa, let’s check that out, FRIDAY! Is that dude sticking a pen into a pineapple?”

Only a keen observer would notice Bucky, perched on top of the couch, not moving a muscle, watching Peter and the videos in equal measure. He keeps a blank face as he takes in the madness unfurling in front of him. But if he enjoys himself immensely and feels entertained, who is to know, let alone to judge him.

 

T’Challa is enjoying the hot weather in the only correct way: wearing nothing but swimming trunks and relaxing in the pool. He is making polite conversation with Thor who joined him in the cool water, one royal heir to another, getting to know each other better.

The two are watched warily by Loki who is lounging in a deck chair near the pool with a pair of sunglasses that looks weirdly anachronistic paired up with his Asgardian tunic.

 

The muffled audio changes to a high-pitched song about colorful unicorns in the sky. Rhodey exhales shakily. Hasn’t he suffered enough already? “FRIDAY, black out mode, please. And crank up my workout playlist.”

The surroundings outside of the room grow thankfully quiet at his command and he can concentrate much better on his set of bench-presses as soon as a thumping bass starts playing from the speakers integrated in the ceiling instead.

 

 

“Look at those corals,” Tony points at the glass ground. Stephen, one arm comfortable slung around Tony’s back, follows the pointer and admires the beautiful underwater nature. A motion between the plants catches his attention.

“Is that a pufferfish?”

“I think so.”

“Weird to see one in a deflated state.”

“Quit talking about our so-called egos,” the quotation marks around that last word are so audible that Stephen snorts loudly, “We’re supposed to admire maritime nature here, not each other.”

In response, Stephen pinches Tony’s side as payback for the quip. Tony yelps a laugh. Of course, Stephen has to find a ticklish spot on accident. The sound elicits a smile from Stephen and he cannot help but make a comment anyway. “Plenty to admire where I’m looking at.”

Tony looks at Stephen in surprise and finds the sorcerer meeting his gaze intently. Out of nowhere, he winks at the engineer. It is Tony’s time to snort but at the same time he feels heat creeping up his cheeks. “Flatterer. You’re just out for another kiss, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” Stephen hums, “So you did notice what you did at breakfast.”

“Only afterwards,” Tony admits with a laugh, “Things like that can happen if I don’t get a decent second cup of coffee.”

“I’m not complaining.”

“Good to know.”

Lightning fast, Tony leans in and presses another peck on Stephen’s cheek. Before he can even react, however, Tony already pulls back again and snuggles up to the sorcerer’s side, gaze wandering back to the glass ground and the view beneath it.

 

 

Poor Rhodey is not allowed to enjoy his peace and quiet. He is just sitting up on the bench press when the gym’s door opens and Bruce enters. His gaze sweeps across the room and settles on the other man present. He nods at him in greeting.

“Rhodey.”

“Bruce. What are you doing here?”

Bruce smiles tensely. “If I have to listen to another note sung by Rick Astley, I can’t guarantee anything, I’m afraid. Some yoga sounded like a good idea.”

Rhodey snorts. “You held out much longer than me on that front, anyway. But since we’re alone here…let’s say I did not mean just in this room. What are you doing here?”

Bruce looks at Rhodey, startled by the suddenly cold tone. His brows crease and he tilts his head to the side minimally. Were he wearing his glasses, he would probably take them off and clean them to keep his hands busy, but he is not allowing himself the luxury of that particular nervous habit right now.

“I imagine almost the same as you, colonel. Do you have a problem with that or me that I should be aware of?”

“Yeah, I do. You’re by far not the only one here I have a problem with and it’s not even the biggest problems of all of them, but I do. I’m here because I want what’s best for Tony. Because he deserves someone to fall in love with who loves him back as unconditionally. Who will always do what’s best for him. Who stays at his side no matter what.” The last point is said very pointedly and Rhodey’s gaze is accusatory.

Bruce wants to sigh tiredly. So this is what the animosity is about. This is something he wants to talk about at length with Tony first because it’s mostly about them and does not concern anybody besides them, on the other hand can he understand and respect Rhodey’s protectiveness and he always liked Tony’s oldest friend.

So, sigh he does and sits down on the seat of the pec deck, clasping in his hands and looking Rhodey in the eye. “I did not leave intentionally, Rhodes. I did not want to leave.”

Rhodey makes a noise somewhere between a scoff and a hiss. “Of course you did. Or you would have just stayed. He needed you here. Never mind how much he missed you on top of that.”

“Believe me, had I been myself, I would have stayed. But I wasn’t. Hulk left, not me.”

“Hulk would not do something you absolutely don’t want, right? So why did he leave if you would have wanted to stay?”

Again, Bruce wishes for his glasses as he has to hold himself back from pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hulk reacted on the most basic of instincts, Rhodey. I had been triggered intentionally twice in the same amount of days and wreaked havoc as a result. I was hurting and panicking. Can you imagine how much rawer those emotions must have been for Hulk? He didn’t know any better, of course he ran away. He used to have the processing and reasoning of a three months old child. A three months old child capable of leveling an entire city. If I had had even a minimum of control… I do not tend to leave friends in need, especially without a way to contact me. I have far too few and value them far too much for that. Especially Tony.”

“Your excuse doesn’t-“

“It’s not an excuse. It’s an explanation. I do not owe you an apology, Rhodey. That belongs to Tony. And I intend to make up for my absence because just because I did not want it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

Rhodey stares at Bruce for a long time, mulling his words over. “You are right, Bruce, it still happened. And that’s why your story doesn’t absolve you of anything. Tones is far too forgiving in my opinion but I also know how much he values your friendship. So you better work your ass off to make up for it.”

Bruce gives him a tense smile in return. “Glad we understand each other.”

“Still doesn’t mean you stand a chance in this competition. Friendship is one thing. Falling in love is something entirely different.”

 

“Rhodey thinks _I’m_ in the friendzone?” Bruce scoffs incredulously. “Has he looked into a mirror lately? Him and Tony are the definition of friendzone, have been for years!”

 

 

“A moray!” Tony points out excitedly.

“Where?”

“There! Next to that huge shell. Between the pink anemones.”

“Indeed. Urgh. Its eyes look so dead.”

“It’s a fish, Stephen. They all do.”

“Maybe. But that one is especially bad.”

Tony tilts his head, judging the moray. “Yeah, maybe.”

 

 

The men at home have found their ways into the kitchen again, enjoying lunch when Vision joins them again.

“Vis, you want a plate, too?” Rhodey is already on his feet, not taking no as an answer from the synthezoid.

“Perhaps I can join the cooking next time,” Vision offers as he opens a drawer to pick a set of silverware.

“Sounds good,” Bruce smiles at him. The scientist is still very cautious in his behavior around Vision. He is only beginning to understand how much of an actual person Vision is and how much of his own person on top of it.

“Then I am looking forward to that. Oh, on the matter of looking forward to events,” Vision clears his throat to gather everyone’s attention, “I do have the announcement card for tomorrow’s date with me.” He pulls out another white envelope and just like that he has the undivided attention of the room.

 

 

Stephen convinces Tony to head back on deck to enjoy the sun and the scenery above sea level for a bit. He is, as Tony has to admit, right about that idea. It’s a wonderful day, not a single cloud is hanging in the sky. Stephen squints constantly as they are leaning on the railing next to each other. At some point Tony cannot take it anymore. He takes his sunglasses off and slips them onto Stephen’s nose. The former surgeon stops talking mid-word. Instead, he stares at Tony in surprise while Tony smiles at him. It is a smile that has never really been captured by the press before, an honest and playful one. Almost impish and it makes him look about five years younger.

“Suits you,” he compliments in a teasing voice.

Stephen looks like he wants to say something but then he just leans back against the railing and throws himself into a pose. Tony does not hesitate to pull out his phone and snap a picture.

 

 

Vision is still enjoying his meal as Loki swipes the envelope off the table before Peter has even reached halfway for it. With deft fingers he flicks it open and pulls out the card inside. His face is not expectant so it does not visibly fall as he reads the card. He is far too controlled for that. But there is still such a shift in the air that everybody present can immediately tell that Loki is not the one invited for the second date.

“Bucky.” Rhodey’s look snaps towards the super soldier who is far too surprised to notice anything. Slowly, his face morphs into a smile as Loki continues. “Let’s get some grease stains on that clean slate. Tony.”

Peter whistles wistfully. “Sounds great. Have fun with that, buddy.”

“Thanks,” Bucky mumbles, absent-mindedly playing with his fork and staring at the blank back of the card in Loki’s hands, “I hope I will.”

 

 

The helicopter is already waiting for Stephen and Tony in the distance when the ship lands at the pier. Tony, sunglasses perched on his nose again, accepts Stephen’s offered hand as help when hopping off the boat. They wave the ship’s crew goodbye and start walking. Time to head back.

On the flight back, Stephen is not as tense as on the first trip. It certainly also helps that Tony is keeping him engrossed with ideas he is working on with SI to lower aquatic pollution and a comical tale of a sailing trip gone wrong he took with friends during college.

 

The rotor slows down and the engine is switched off as the chopper touches down on the landing spot at the mansion. They exit the vehicle and head towards the front door.

“I had a lot of fun today,” Stephen breaks the silence.

Tony looks at him and smiles. “Good. Me too.”

“Your shirt is still atrocious, though.”

Tony only laughs in response. “I’m afraid I have some more work waiting for me in the workshop.”

“I don’t mind at all, I hear the shower calling my name.”

“Huh, and here I thought I hadn’t implemented that feature yet.”

Stephen snorts in amusement. “Thank you for this wonderful date, Tony.”

“Thank you for making it wonderful,” Tony replies smoothly and they go for a hug. It is only a brief one where they squeeze each other’s shoulders and kiss each other’s cheek.

Then, they break apart and Tony heads for the stairs leading downwards while Stephen climbs the set towards the upper floor.

 

The next morning promises another sunny day which is started about just as uncoordinated as the last one. Thor tries himself at a giant-sized omelet with moderate success, Jude and Loki squabble over the raspberry jelly, Peter discovers Nutella and Bucky is too nervous to swallow even a single bite.

When Tony enters the kitchen in search for caffeine, Rhodey quickly pulls a steaming mug from underneath the coffee machine, pours half a spoonful of sugar into it and stirs before handing it over. Tony inhales the steam rising from the brew and sighs contentedly.  The Cloak of Levitation floats across the room to sweep around Tony once, waving hello at him with one lapel and receiving a pat in return, before hurrying back to Stephen’s seat and settling on the backrest and its sorcerer’s shoulders again.

Bucky and Tony catch each other’s attention more by accident than anything else by the look of it.

“Morning, Barnes and Noble. You done with your breakfast soon?”

Bucky gives his unbitten slice of toast a fleeting look before nodding and pushing his plate away. “Sure thing.”

“Great, I’ll meet you downstairs, then. Just take your time.”

Tony does not flee the room per se but his retreat is somewhat hastier than usual. Bruce’s gaze trails from the door where Tony’s back just vanished from sight to Bucky whose leg is bouncing under the table and the scientist stifles a humored sound.

 

“They are both so nervous, it’s almost cute,” Bruce divulges to the camera, “But I honestly think that it’s a huge tell that they won’t work. Tony…Tony needs an anchor, someone he feels entirely comfortable with.”

 

The untouched toast is eagerly taken by Peter upon offering and without any remaining breakfast holding him back, Bucky stands up and takes his leave.

 

“This is a huge step we’re taking today,” Bucky admits and rubs his neck, “Of course I’m nervous about it.”

 

Tony is leaning against the door of his workshop, fingers drumming against the glass rhythmically as his mind plays a Sabaton song on repeat. His eyes are fixed on the elevator but the resounding steps from the staircase are more than telling.

Bucky arrives at the bottom of the stairs and smiles tentatively as soon as he finds the engineer waiting for him.

“Fancy seeing you down here.”

“Yeah, who’d have thought,” Tony grind back with a cheeky smile and pushes himself off of the wall, “C’mon, James. Time to introduce you to my sanctuary.”

He rises the hand to a security panel and enters an allowance code. The panel beeps, the display turns green and the door glides open. Bucky’s jaw drops slightly as soon as he enters the workshop which is once more merged with a garage. In the back of the room, there stands what must be the most beautiful assortment of cars he has ever seen.

Closer to the door, a large workbench is surrounded by bright blue holograms that remind Bucky of his time in Wakanda. It is cluttered with tools and parts in some sort of organized chaos. A – for the lack of a better word for it – robot with only one long limb that ends in a three-clawed grapple. It must have some kind of camera or other sensors implemented because with a whir it turns around and knocks a wrench off of the workbench in the process.

“Careful!” Tony chides the machine, “I’m going to donate you to a community college if you keep that up, you pile of screws and bolts.” The robot seems to pay the comment no mind and chirps a series of beeps instead, rolling closer to them and seems to fixate on Bucky, claw slowly wandering from left to right, almost like an animal twisting its head to examine an unknown creature. Bucky freezes in his spot, eyeing the robot carefully, without any idea on how to react to the close inspection. The arm extends and the claw – still closed – taps against his arms. A metallic ring echoes when metal meets metal. After a moment of awkward silence between Bucky and the robot – Tony has wandered off in the meantime to pick up the wrench from the floor – the claw gently taps his arm again. Another ring, and now the robot lets out a stream of bleeps and chimes, arm rising and lowering frantically, rotating around its own axis. Bucky stares at the machine, baffled and utterly confused.

The ruckus finally catches Tony’s attention and he looks over. “DUM-E!” he calls with a reprimand audible in his voice, “Leave them alone. It’s just an arm and it’s attached to the human next to it. It can’t talk back.”

A series of whirs and whistles, sounding strangely like a question.

“No.”

Another bout of chimes.

“Yes, just like I told you.”

The arm turns around and seems to inspect Bucky’s arm. Finally, it lowers with a sad toot. Bucky can’t help but reach out and pat the robot on its casing. “There, there.”

Tony stares at him, aghast, but a blinding smile slowly forming. He fights it visibly, but the corners of his mouth keep twitching.

 

“It’s pretty rare that people treat my bots like they are more than just unfeeling machines,” Tony admits with a shrug and a hand gesture that clearly says ‘but what can you do’, “Especially when they just met them. Seeing James doing that was really cathartic, it definitely gave him some bonus points in my book.”

 

Jude Law is a man that is easy on the eyes. Jude Law lying in the sun is guaranteed to be appreciated by the audience. But Jude Law sunbathing without a shirt on is down right delectable. Paying the cameras no mind, he is lounging on a deckchair, eyes closed and blissful smile in place.

After some time, he gets that certain kind of feeling one gets when being watched. It is an entirely different feeling from being filmed constantly, so Jude notices the difference eventually. With slight unease, he cracks an eyelid open. Loki is sitting on the chair next to his, clad in long-sleeved black and green leather, and watches him intently.

That sight prompts him to open his second eye as well and he props himself up on one elbow. “Can I help you with something?”

“I think it is time we had a little talk,” the god of mischief announces and leans forward, “We have not been properly introduced so far, our run-in at breakfast notwithstanding. I am Loki of Asgard.”

“Jude,” the actor replies easily but stays wary.

“Why are you here, Jude? What do you promise yourself from participating in this game?”

Jude stares at the other man for a moment. “Hopefully a husband at the end of it and a good time beforehand,” he eventually answers and he cannot help himself but sound slightly condescending in answer to such a stupid question. “Why? Are you here for another reason?”

“Do you really think you have a chance?” Loki whispers and Jude frowns.

“Yeah, why not. Tony seems to like me all right.”

“For now, perhaps. But you are competing against – heroes,” it visibly pains Loki to say that word, “And gods. How can you possibly hope to compare to us?”

“I don’t have to compare to you,” Jude replies, but his tone has lost that certain easiness, “I just have to get on well with Tony. In the end, it’s his decision and we can’t do anything against that except for being ourselves.”

Loki smiles at him ominously. “If that is what you would like to tell yourself,” he stands up from the deckchair and strolls away, “Enjoy the sun, Jude.”

Jude stares at the Jotun’s retreating back. He finds it particularly difficult to relax again and simply do as Loki just told him to.

 

Bucky steps further into the spacious room, his gaze always settling back on the cars after looking somewhere else. That is something Tony does not miss either and his smile grows into a smirk.

“C’mon, there’s something I wanna show you.”

Curious, Bucky follows his cue. Between some of the cars, there stands a motorcycle. An old one from the looks of it. Bucky cannot help himself, he stands next to the machine before he even notices and already inspects it closely. His fingers ghost over the black enameled casing that covers the engine and gently press against the leather covering the seat.

Tony looks very satisfied with himself and, hands shoved into his trouser pockets, approaches the vehicle, too. “Beauty, isn’t she?”

“Definitely,” Bucky agrees, enraptured.

“Well, the engine needs some restoration work. The exhaust should probably be replaced, too. I can think of at least five ways to improve the acceleration and the brakes. What do you say? Wanna tinker around a bit?”

Bucky stares at Tony blankly for a moment. “Me?” He asks weakly.

“Yeah, sure. You’ve hold a wrench before, haven’t you?”

“About seventy years ago. Sometimes. But I don’t think I know enough to-“

“Of course you do,” Tony interrupts him, waving his concerns aside, “This model is a little bit after your time but you should be fine if you worked on motorbikes before. And if there’s something you don’t know, I’m still here, too. And trust me, I know my way around pretty much every engine in existence.” He gestures at the line-up of different cars.

Bucky decides to agree before he changes his mind again. The last time he worked on a motorcycle had been in a military camp somewhere in Europe. He would love to get his hands into an engine again and here he is being presented with the perfect opportunity to do so. To decline would be monumentally stupid. “Alright. Let’s get started.”

Giddily, Tony claps his hands and pulls a roll-fronted cabinet over, as well as two roller stools. Plonking himself down on one of the latter, Tony opens one of the many drawers in the cabinet and hefts a couple of tools out.

“Here you go,” he hands a large wrench over to Bucky without looking, “I’ll have a look what else we might need for this.”

“Thanks, doll,” Bucky replies and grabs the offered tool without looking too closely as well. His metal fingers dig into Tony’s skin as he wraps his hand around the wrench and suddenly, Tony flinches. Bucky’s reflexes kick in and he grabs the wrench before it can tumble to the ground, but a couple of other tools fall from the open drawer. Tony has turned white as a sheet, his eyes wide and he stares at his hand as if he was just burned. His breathing is ragged and Bucky stares at him, just as wide-eyed as the other one. His heart speeds up as he notices the way the other man has frozen in his place.

Screams, grunting and the sickening sound of metal pounding against metal resound in Tony’s head and he is fighting down pictures from Siberia trying to rise up.

Similar things are happening to Bucky, the echo of his fist pounding against a metal suit, the whooshing of Stevie’s shield flying through the air, the blindingly bright blue-white energy beam ripping away his old arm… “Oh God,” he murmurs and bolts from his stool.

“Sergeant Barnes,” FRIDAY’s voice seems to be far away and incredibly close at the same time and she repeats his name three times before he reacts to it for the first time. “Sergeant Barnes, please calm down. You are in Malibu, California, the triggers have been removed from your mind, you are safe, you are alive, you are with the Avengers. Everything is fine. Please calm down.”

Had anybody ever told Bucky that a robot would be good at talking him out of a panic attack, he would have – well, probably not exactly laughed, but he wouldn’t have believed it, for sure. And yet here the Irish voiced AI is, pulling his mind back into the present and into his body that is currently standing in Tony’s workshop and – oh God, Tony was having a panic attack, too, as he started to blank out. Or at least, that’s what Bucky thinks was happening.

In a hurry, Bucky turns around and rushes back. Tony, still sitting on his stool, is leaning against the cabinet, ashen-faced, but breathing evenly and deliberately and his eyes are looking sharply at his surroundings instead of staring into nothingness. His gaze settles on Bucky immediately as he returns.

“…Tony,” Bucky starts hesitantly. He is at a loss for words. What do you say to someone after a situation such as this? “I- I’m-“

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Tony interrupts him quickly and pushes himself off the cabinet, “Please don’t. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- I…uh, I usually have a better grip on my panic attacks.”

“You have those often enough to have a usual way to deal with them?” Buck’s voice may be an entire octave higher than usual, who’s to say exactly.

“Ignore that.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Anyway, the point is, I’m sorry for setting you off.”

Bucky scoffs. “Don’t,” he echoes, “I’m sure you didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Still, I…” Tony trails off and shrugs helplessly. He is not the best talker when it comes to emotions either, after all.

“Apology accepted,” Bucky quickly says, “As long as you accept mine.”

“Done,” Tony agrees easily, color slowly returning to his face. “Maybe we…uh, should do something else? Calm down a bit?”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Bucky agrees.

Tony ponders their options for a moment. “I bet you haven’t watched a lot of movies as a frozen yoghurt, have you?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“Alright, that’s it! We’re having a movie night. Only at forenoon. A film forenoon, basically! We’ll make some popcorn, get some ice cream and then we can catch you up on pop culture.”

That does sound absolutely heavenly to Bucky and he agrees quickly. As they leave the workshop, he gives the motorcycle a longing look. “Don’t worry,” Tony, who notices, comments, “I’m not going to get rid of it because of this. Any time you’d like to tinker a bit, feel free to ask me for access to the garage.”

Bucky’s smile lights up the room as he profusely thanks Tony who merely waves it off.

They do not take the stairs but the elevator, both a little too exhausted to move all that much. FRIDAY, on Tony’s request, starts up the tv and queues up a selection of movies to pick from while Tony and Bucky go into the kitchen, getting snacks just as planned.

They settle down onto the couch with a big bowl of buttered popcorn, drinks and three tubs of different ice cream flavors in a small portable cooling unit. Bucky’s metal arm rests on top of the backrest and Tony has scooped a pillow into his arms and is now fiddling with the remote.

“So, let’s pick something. Maybe nothing action heavy right now? Without any explosions or rapid gunfire?”

“Good idea,” Bucky agrees.

That eliminates many of Tony’s favorite movies from the selection. They decide to search for something lighter, maybe even a comedy. They almost settle on the original Ghostbusters but Tony insists that Quill probably doesn’t know that one either and would enjoy it greatly.

“The three of us can watch that one some other time,” he promises and Bucky accepts with a nod and a faint smile.

After some further back and forth, they pick a comedy based on some British stage play. It involves mistaken identities, sharp wits and scathing looks from dame Julie Andrews at some of her co-stars. Tony is enjoying himself immensely and after some time Bucky notices that he is getting into it, too.

What he notices only much later is how Tony, pillow in front of him, has scooped up against his side after some time. That revelation elicits a smile from Bucky and he carefully leans slightly into Tony, as well, enjoying the warmth and comfort of having another human close to him, especially after such an emotionally exhausting experience prior.

And if the two of them fall asleep on top of each other during the second movie, a black-and-white film Bucky chooses, nobody but the audience knows of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd....that's it for this time already. I hope you enjoyed it!  
> Tony sending people (like Justin Hammer) apology flowers that actually state "You are a self-absorbed moron and I hate you" is a headcanon you can pry from my cold dead hands btw.  
> I actually rolled a die on who gets the first date. For all dates that I have planned so far, I already know who will do what. But this first one was a spontaneous decision, I excluded some people based on their involvement later in this chapter or the next, assigned the rest a number and then rolled a d4. Stephen literally got lucky.  
> And the talk between Rhodey and Bruce may have escalated a bit into a rant from me at all the fics that blame Bruce for leaving at the end of AoU and make him into a fair weather friend because of that because, honestly, every single fic using that interpretation is welcome to meet me in the parking lot and get a beating.
> 
> I am thinking of adding a "social media bit" at the end of every chapter. Checking a hashtag during the break, so to speak, because I'm a bit worried with the long time between chapters that it's a bit of a too far call-back if I reference something that happened at the beginning of the former chapter at the end. Any thoughts on that?
> 
> Your comments are, of course, highly appreciated. Let me know what you think!


	5. Episode 2 Part 2 - A group date and the rose ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The commercial break is over! Finally, the second episode of The Bachelor continues! There is still a group date to do before the rose ceremony can be held! Who will be the lucky guys? What will the date be about? And, of course, who will stay and who has to go home? All this and more!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .........happy new year, guys? *shrugs helplessly* Hey, what's up?  
>  I am so, so, so incredibly sorry that it took so long to give you the next chapter. My laptop broke last year (and I mean 'the hard drive is fried' kind of broken) and I...uh, I couldn't exactly afford a replacement right away. I also lost about the first 3k of this chapter But, finally, here were are now and I'm happy that I can finally continue. Please be assured, however unregular the updates may be, I will not abandon this story.  
> Lastly, I can only continue to thank all of you for your amazing comments, kudos and support all around. You guys are the best.
> 
> This is not beta read and English is not my first language. Please enjoy.

Despite the living room being spacious and well-furnished, it is no small feat to have all residents sans the bachelor himself finding and taking a seat. One couch, made for three people, is occupied by T’Challa, Bucky and Stephen and Jude squeezed in between the latter two. On the complimentary two-seater, Thor and Rhodey take up too much space – especially the first one – to allow an additional man between them. Loki lounges on one of the two comfortable armchairs completing the set of furniture, the second one on the other side of the arrangement is claimed by Bruce. That leaves Peter without a seat but the ever resourceful blonde has settled on the armrest of Bruce’s chair and is resting his feet on the armrest of the sofa next to it. T’Challa is avoiding the feet covered in white socks with as much dignity as possible. Suffice to say, the king of Wakanda is struggling with his self-appointed task.

But Peter is too engrossed in talking with a somewhat reticent Bruce about the differences between Knowhere and Sakaar to pay anyone else’s discomfort any mind.

It does not take long for Vision to enter soon after everyone has gathered. He is greeted with varying degrees of warmth and friendliness, but most attention is immediately drawn to what he is holding in his hands.

Without any haste, Vision takes his place in front of the small table, just perfectly angled to address everybody in front of him without giving anyone the feeling of being neglected.

“Gentlemen, the time has come. All of you have been waiting for it. The first group date is about to commence.” Everybody is eyeing the envelope in Vision’s hands with anticipation. The hope not to be disappointed by the odds this time is tangible. For a moment, nobody moves. Then, Vision shifts and puts the piece of paper down onto the side table. “Have a very nice day.”

The synthezoid turns to leave and as soon as he is out of sight, all of the contestants clamor for the proverbial golden ticket. It is Peter who emerges with the prize in his hands, shouting victoriously.

He tears the envelope open with relish and pulls out the card.

Instead of reading the card in its entirety first like Thor and Loki did before, Peter opens his mouth and declares: “T’Challa. Rhodey. Peter,” he takes a moment to make an excited whooping noise before continuing, “Bucky. Jude. Let’s speed things up a bit. Tony.”

Bucky stares in disbelief at the paper card in Peter’s hand. He cannot fully grasp that he is getting another shot after the disastrous turn his and Tony’s first date took at the beginning. Sure, they woke up arm in arm in the end. And yes, it felt amazing to be that close to another human being again. It wasn’t even all that awkward, for either of them, when they untangled themselves. It was an almost sweet ending to their less than ideal date. To get a second shot so soon is more than he hoped for.

Loki looks more than displeased to be passed over again.

Thor, on the other hand, appears sad more than anything. His shoulders slump down and his expression drops slightly, as well. Bruce notices the Thunder God’s change in mood and slips out of his seat to scoot closer. Consolingly, he pats Thor’s back and offers to spend some of the time with him instead since his name was not announced either. Thor brightens immediately and nods in delight before a realization dawns on his horrorstruck face.

“I am deeply sorry, Bruce. I was drawing enjoyment from the fact that you are not a part of the upcoming gathering as well, despite knowing you must wish for it as much as myself. I shall aspire to be a better friend.”

“Nonsense, Thor,” Bruce waves the blonde’s bad conscience away, “Misery likes company, as the saying goes. Fact is neither of us got to go on the date so why not make the best of it.”

“Your generous forgiveness honors you, my friend.”

Loki scoffs in his seat, pushes himself up and leaves the room with wide strides.

 

“Of course I am displeased,” Loki tells the camera with a huff, “I came here to win over Anthony, not to idle about in his house without seeing him and sitting by while others receive invitations aplenty.”

 

Rhodey is humming to himself as he is rifling through his wardrobe, pulling out a shirt that says ‘MIT’ on the front and studying it in contemplation. With a nod to himself, he throws it onto his bed and dives through the content of his closet again. Soon, a black button-down and a pair of black pants join it on the duvet and the pilot closes the wardrobe doors with a pleased smile.

 

“I think I have a pretty good idea what we’re going to do,” Rhodey tells the camera, grinning, “And I’m sure I won’t need any fancy clothes for that.”

 

The camera lingers as Rhodey sheds his current tee to change into the one he just picked. The light is almost reflected from the lines in his dark skin between his well-defined abs. A gratuitous shot focuses on the way his arms flex as he pulls his MIT shirt over his head.

As he gets to his trousers, he glances at the camera team uncomfortably. He hesitates and then takes a couple of steps past the camera. Hushed voices are talking with each other. Only a couple of words are intelligible and only for those who have the program on full volume. ‘Patent pending’, ‘Stark Industries’ and ‘non-disclosure agreement’ are some of them. The camera is slowly lowered until it only shows the ground before quickly cutting away.

 

Stephen is lounging in one of the armchairs in the living room, face hidden behind the pages of a thick book in his hands, an occult symbol pressed into the cover instead of a title. His eyes are firmly trained on the Sumerian words but his attention is diverted when the God of Mischief tries to draw little attention to himself as he heads towards the staircase leading down to Tony’s workshop. Loki does not acknowledge Stephen’s presence and the doctor returns the favor but nevertheless keeps an ear out when the trickster begins to descend the stairs.

Guitar riffs, accentuated by a bass, echo through the garage and Tony is humming along to Bon Scott’s strident voice as he is working on a miniscule circuit board with precision tools, a round band of silvery metal glittering between his fingers under a magnifying glass.

A sharp staccato knocking against the glass door breaks his concentration. With a huff, Tony pulls his hands away from his project and puts down the tools into a foam holder inside a metal box.

“Who is it, FRI?”

“Loki, boss. He wants to talk to you. Apparently, he’s unhappy about your choice of date members.” The AI’s voice carries a laconic tinge and Tony feels a surge of pride at how far his girl has developed already. There are still times – more often than not – that he misses JARVIS’ acerbic wit with an all-consuming ache but he still would not want to miss experiencing FRIDAY grow for the world. He shrugs and heads towards the washing basin implemented in the small cooking corner.

“Eh, let His Hornliness in. Wait. That sounds wrong. His…Mischievousness? Ehh…nah, doesn’t sound good either. FRI, remind me to think of a good new nickname for the Lokester.”

“Sure thing, boss. Do you want me to put it down between your manicure and the board meeting tomorrow or do you prefer a daily reminder?”

“You are a cruel, cruel mistress and I regret giving you the server space you run on,” he shoots back sulkily. FRIDAY is physically incapable of laughter but they both know she is laughing at him right now, loud and long.

Any further banter, however, is cut short by the sound of steps that announces Loki’s entrance.

“Anthony! May I demand a few moments of your time.” It sounds more like a demand than a question already, but the polite phrasing softens the tone.

Tony turns around; he plasters on a smile that gains an honest and frankly appreciating edge as his eyes roam across the alien’s leather-clad body.

“Well, hello there, Rock of Ages. What can I do for you on this fine day?”

“Perhaps,” Loki’s lips twist into a sly grin and his eyes drill into Tony’s, “You can answer a question or two of mine if you do not care for my presence at your…dates.”

Tony rolls his eyes with a sigh, but the whole gesture seems more amused than annoyed. “Don’t feel neglected, sugar. I’ve got a house full of guys to juggle around. This is the second date. Do you want me to tell you about the probability that you were going to get picked?”

“Seeing as half of the house will be joining you today, I am curious to hear your math. Although I am sure that I am willing to let some mistakes slide if they are spoken in your lovely voice.”

“My math is always flawless, thank you very much. And there is a reason I picked who I picked for this date. And that’s familiarity with a required skill that’s acquired by much more of us earthlings than you guys from phantasialand.”

“I am sure Quill spent even less time on this dustball than Thor or myself.”

“But he can drive.”

“So do I.” Unbidden, the image of Loki behind the steering wheel of a small Smart car pops into Tony’s head and he stifles his laughter with a snort, much to the visible irritation of the trickster.

“Sorry, sorry. You can drive cars?”

“I can pilot Asgardian space crafts as well as several others. A Midgardian car will surely not pose any difficulties.”

Tony wisely chooses to say nothing in return and shrugs helplessly. “If you say so. But it’s too late now, the date participants have been chosen. Maybe next time, alright?”

“Only maybe?” Loki positively purrs and closes the distance between the two.

Tony, the sound Loki made doing things to him, smiles playfully. “Maybe. I can’t make any promises, snow-white, or I’ll get in trouble with the producers.”

Loki sighs theatrically.

“What a shame. In some parts of the universe it is good practice to seal a promise with a kiss.”

Tony meets him halfway and leans in, lips ghosting across Loki’s ear as he whispers into it.

“You have very kissable lips, reindeer games, and I can talk from experience here. But don’t think you can get your will every time by snogging. And even though this is a fun game with you, it’s been a couple of years since I’ve last been that easy. Step up your game, Elsa.” Tony’s eyes twinkle as he pulls back and sees Loki follow his movement almost automatically before breaking away and replying in the same kind of huskily daring tone.

“Be careful who you challenge, Anthony Stark. One of these days, you might bite off more than you can chew. Enjoy your day.”

Tony watches the Jotun leave with a lopsided grin, his eyes glittering.

 

“Heck yeah, I’m excited,” Peter grins and wriggles in his seat, “I’ve got a really good feeling about today. It will be fun.” He shrugs with one shoulder. “Sure, a single date would’ve been neat but in a group we can do all kinds of fun stuff. I can’t wait to see Terran ideas of a good time.”

 

Vision leads the group of contestants to the driveway where a black van is pulling up. Happy climbs out of the driver seat and opens the back door for the men to get inside. The stoic expression on his face is enhanced by the pair of sunglasses covering his eyes. He nods at Vision and takes his seat behind the steering wheel again.

It takes a moment for all five men to crawl into the spacious area and find a seating arrangement. In the end, Peter gets the seat at the window he desperately wants. Jude is perched between him and Rhodey and in the row behind them Bucky and T’Challa keep each other silent company.

 

Thor has discarded his Asgardian clothes in favor of a simple olive green t-shirt and a pair of washed out blue jeans. A slim leather band with a small bronze charm dangles from his neck. His not-really-short-anymore-but-not-long-yet-either hair is at that awkward phase where it keeps falling into his face but he cannot tie it back yet. It does not seem to faze him and, of course, much like anything else it looks good on him. It alleviates his formerly more serious look which makes him seem a tad younger in his agelessness.

The God of Thunder is sitting in an armchair in the large living area, close to where Stephen is absorbed in his book, leaned forward and hands clasped together and his eyes trained on the program running on the large flat screen TV on the wall. A documentary about the Great Barrier Reef has captured the Asgardian’s interest and attention and he is smiling at the footage of several clownfish peeking out of anemones.

A noise at the staircase makes both men look up. Stephen, other than Thor, returns his attention to his book at the sight of Bruce descending from the upper floor. Thor’s face lights up even more and motions for the scientist to take a seat on the couch next to him.

“Bruce! Come and join me in watching this most educational showing. Did you know that it is the male seahorses that carry children?”

“Really?” Bruce sounds amused and does not stop Thor from retelling what he has learned in the past half hour.

“Indeed! They must be strong-hearted to have taken on this responsibility. Most men I have met would cave under that, it is most admirable.”

“I’m not entirely sure that’s how evolutionary biology works, Thor.”

“If I recall correctly, that is not subject of one of your PhDs either, my friend.”

The glare Bruce sends Thor’s way is a mix between insulted and murderous but not without affection.

 

The asphalt is slowly heating up under the burning sun, built into the round shape of a race track. The bleachers are empty except for some lonely camera men and their equipment littered along the lane. A soft whirring noise carries through the air, wheels are spinning and an electric kart, painted red with gold highlights, comes to a halt. The driver climbs out of the seat with energetic ease and pulls the crash helmet off his head. Tony’s hair is tousled, his face is flushed and he grins widely, leaning against the car in his matching colored racing overall. He crosses his arms and allows the camera to capture his picture rigorously.

 

The van pulls over at the entrance and the passengers pour out, some chattering excitedly and some examining the building in front of them contemplatively. Rhodey cannot suppress a triumphant grin at the camera, leading the group towards the course.

 

“I knew we would do something with cars,” Rhodey crows at the camera, his leather jacket gleaming under the bright electric lights of the race track, “Fast machines are a given with Tony. Luckily, I am one hell of a pilot.”

 

“Oooh boy, this looks like it’s gonna be amazing,” Peter almost jumps up and down on the spot, stretching the last word for emphasis into its three syllables.

 

The group reaches the tracks and Tony, who is leaning against his car and talking to a camera, comes into view. Peter lets out an enthusiastic whoop. Jude joins him and even Rhodey lets himself get dragged into a loud greeting and an exaggerated wave. The kiss Tony blows his way makes up for behaving that childishly in front of a camera, although Peter playfully jumps in front of the air force pilot and makes a catching motion with his hand to claim the kiss for himself. Tony almost slips off the car with laughter at Peter’s antics and Rhodey’s indignant glare at the man from outer space. Even Bucky grins at the men next to him.

Only T’Challa carries on with his typical silent dignity, a warm smile softening his almost distanced aura, his dark eyes trained steadily on Tony who holds his gaze with a smile of his own. Finally, Tony pushes himself off of the kart and makes towards the approaching group.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” he drawls with a grin at T’Challa and draws the Wakandan king into a hug, placing a kiss on his cheek and then addressing the whole group, “Nice to see you all. Glad you could make it. We are going to have so much fun.” He proceeds to greet everybody individually.

 

“I’m really glad Stephen told me about his accident,” Tony admits with a distant look and a somewhat sheepish smile, “This could have gotten pretty uncomfortable otherwise.”

 

Tony is done giving everybody a hug and kisses on the cheek and demands everybody’s attention again. Not that he really has to fight for it, all five focus on him more than willingly. His expertise for presentations onstage shows as he claps his hands and then makes a sweeping gesture that encompasses the entire race track.

“Many people probably remember the incident several years back when I hijacked a race. That might even have been for the best,” Rhodey snorts heartily, “Since said race got interrupted by a lovely guy the media dubbed ‘Whiplash’ who tried to kill me with no regard for casualties along the way. I had a pretty spectacular flip with my race car but that did not cure me of my love for speed. The motorized kind. Anyway, I already made my rounds here today, now it’s your turn. Show me that you can keep up.” The last words draw chuckles from his small live audience. Rhodey grins wide and as Tony’s gaze locks with his, the genius’ lips stretch into a blindingly bright smile.

 

After a short break, five karts are standing at the starting line, each painted in the color scheme of a different contending superhero and matching protection suits and crash helmets had been given out to the contestants. Jude as the only one without a world-saving alias gets a special treatment. Tony makes a big show of passing on his own kart to the actor who thanks him with a flushed smile and a long hug, complete with a kiss on the cheek. Rhodey whistles suggestively before remembering that he is dealing with a rival and perhaps should not overly encourage Tony to flirt with anyone else by his usual teasing. After a moment of contemplating whether he should start behaving jealously instead, Rhodey shrugs mentally and discards that ridiculous idea. Instead, he admires the grey and silver kart with red highlights. Its design looks somewhat bulkier than the other cars and, thus, emulates his beloved armor in all the right ways. He shakes his head, chuckling, as he spots a sticker on the rear spoiler proclaiming ‘WAR MACHINE ROCKS’. A body slams into him from behind and a pair of arms wraps around his chest.

“What do you think, platypus?”

Rhodey turns around and grins at Tony. “It’s perfect in all the ways that matter, just like me.”

“You always know just what to say to make me feel better, honeybunch.”

“Course I do, I know you better than anyone else.”

“Aww, I always knew you actually were a huge sap on the inside.” Rhodey’s grumbling protest is resolutely ignored as Tony presses a wet and sloppy kiss on his left cheek. “Now go and win me this race, Romeo.”

“Aw, unfair!” Peter proclaims loudly with a pout. “You can’t be cheering for one of us more than for the others!”

Rhodey’s good mood gets even better. It is not really a vindictive joy, more akin to the smug feeling of knowing something that proves a mystery to everybody else.

“Don’t worry, Space Cowboy, loser gets a consolation price.” Tony winks haughtily at Peter who immediately tries to lean against his own racecar smoothly while grinning back. Tony’s smirk widens. “But just so you know, I can always do anything I like, no exceptions.”

“Well, you can do me even if you don’t like me.” Peter wriggles his eyebrows in a spectacular way.

Rhodey almost howls with laughter. Even if Peter was not going to win, he and Tony are certainly two peas in a pod.

Tony turns around and tries to walk off the racing track but he finds T’Challa standing in his way, arms loosely crossed and one eyebrow raised. “Is the privilege of a good luck kiss reserved for Rhodes or may I ask for one as well?”

Tony almost stutters but can catch himself and steamroll over his initial lapse at so much smooth charm being aimed at him for a change. “Who am I to deny a king?”

 

“Eeh,” Bruce waves his hand at the camera in a dismissive manner, trying very hard to appear casual about T’Challa’s royalty ever since Rhodey made him embarrass himself at their first meeting, “It would be more romantic if T’Challa was still a prince. It’s always the princes that are the romantic interest. King just doesn’t have the same dreamy ring to it. For example, nobody would’ve wanted to date Odin, he was the _king_ of Asgard. Thor on the other hand…” One of the people behind the camera says something. “What do you mean, that’s different?”

 

Tony pulls back from placing a less slobbery but still resounding smack on T’Challa’s cheek. “Good luck, Garfield.”

“What about us mere peasants?” Jude calls over, his tone teasing.

Tony rolls his eyes in amusement. “Fine, but for making me you have to wait the longest.”

“Always save the best for last,” Jude replies and, thus, gets his wish of Tony walking over right away, pulling his head towards him with both hands and kissing his cheek in a grand display. The actor laughs in delight and tilts his head so his kissed cheek is in the best possible angle for the camera to capture it.

Bucky looks like a deer caught in headlights when Tony approaches his car and leans against its hood. “Well?” he manages to croak and make it sound a little less nervous than he feels.

“Well…,” Tony echoes and circles the machine to come to a halt in front of the soldier. Gently - almost carefully, but purposefully he reaches for the metal hand. Cold and warm fingers slowly curl around each other and this time neither pulls away hastily as if burned. Instead, Bucky almost has to suppress a gasp. He is still unused to being able to feel again with his replaced arm thanks to the Wakandan princess and the casual intimacy of gently squeezing somebody’s hand is a feeling he has not experienced in a long time. He marvels at the wonder of it all.

Tony watches the wave of emotions cross the other’s face and gives him a moment, just squeezing back. Then, he raises to his toes. “No roadrage, okay? Forget your supersoldier training, no exploding or flipping cars. Just a fair race.”

Bucky cannot help but huff, breaking into a chuckle. Granted, he does not have the best track record with cars. “I’ll try,” he promises.

“That’s all I ask.” Tony smiles and leans forward to finally press a gentle kiss on Bucky’s smoothly shaved cheek.

His fingers linger for a moment longer in Bucky’s, then he is off heading towards Peter who is awaiting him with a big happy smile. Bucky looks after Tony, amazed at how easy this just was. Of course, this is more or less what he had hoped for when signing up for the show but still… After their rightfully more than rocky start, this is a great development and he is very happy about it.

Tony, in the meantime, is dutifully shoving the complex feelings that James Buchanan Barnes makes him feel under his mental equivalent of a rug and concentrates on bantering more with Peter instead.

 

In Malibu, Thor is laughing heartily and leans against a metallic pole poking out of the wide lawn. Opposite of him, the Hulk roars in delight. The green giant cradles a brown, pointy ball in his hand, so small it easily fits into his palm.

“Hulk five, Thor three!” The gleeful exclamation echoes loudly across the garden all the way to the terrace where Stephen is lounging in a chair, engrossed in yet another tome with strange symbols on the spine.

Inside the house, Loki is sitting in an armchair and staring at Stephen intently, chin resting in his hand and a frown darkening his face.

 

“Of course, the main goal is to win Anthony over. That doesn’t mean actively undermining one’s opponents should be forgotten,” the god of mischief freely admits at the camera, “And for that to happen it is best to study one’s opponents first. It is easiest to strike when they don’t know you’re coming for them.”

 

“Loki is watching me constantly,” Stephen shares with the camera, “He thinks he’s being subtle about it.” His grin grows sharp. “Good to know that he sees me as the most dangerous competition.”

 

Finally, Tony manages to get off the race track. He climbs on a small pedestal while his dates climb into their car seats. “Alright,” the Bachelor proclaims loudly, “The race goes on for three rounds. May the fastest win! Please start your engines and get ready for the starting signal.”

The contestants follow his instructions – Rhodey revs his engine a bit, trying to get a feeling for it and make a bit of an impression while he is at it. The result is slightly disappointing because of the electric engines but that does not deter the Air Force pilot in the slightest. T’Challa takes a moment to acquaintance himself with the unfamiliar dashboard but gets comfortable with it quicker than Peter, who fiddles with the controls for a few moments but ultimately leans back against his backrest with an anticipating grin.

 

“There hasn’t been a spaceship I haven’t been able to fly yet,” Peter boasts with a little self-satisfied smirk, “And I won’t start with getting defeated by a simple Terran car.”

 

All are assembled at the starting line, a large electronic billboard blinking above them. A resounding alarm blares and the lights jump to green. Even though the engines do merely purr instead of howl, the tires still squeal as rubber presses against the asphalt with too much pressure and velocity and the five cars hurtle off along the lane. Tony, as the sole spectator makes a show of hollering and whistling, oohing and aahing as the race commences.

T’Challa has a very good start and manages to obtain a shaky first place, Rhodey hot on his heels with only inches keeping him from the lead position. But Peter refuses to take that and with a beautiful acceleration out of the first curve he pulls in front with a delighted whoop resounding from his cockpit. The side of T’Challa’s car scrapes along Peter’s backlight with an ugly metal screech and makes the leading car swerve. Peter hits the brakes a bit too hard in his attempt to regain complete control and T’Challa leaves him behind with a triumphant smirk. This complication throws Peter back to last place, previously occupied by Jude who is gaining more and more confidence along the track and tries to overtake Bucky who in turn is almost glued to Rhodey’s back bumper.

In a breathtaking maneuver, Rhodey takes over the leading position just before his car passes the line and is beginning the second round. Peter has recovered by now while Jude is visibly struggling to keep up with the mostly very precise line management of the others and is falling behind bit by bit. T’Challa tries to use the curve to his advantage and pull ahead but he swerves too far to the outside and Bucky drives past him from the inner border of the track.

It is a close struggle for the entire round until Bucky claims the pole position after Peter tries to pressure Rhodey out of the marked tracks onto the shoulder. Rhodes, while slowed down by the half-human’s attempts, keeps Peter behind his own car with an expert control over his steering.

Tony’s rapt attention is focused on the spectacle before him. One of the filming assistants approaches him and gives him a large black and white checkered flag. Grinning broadly, the genius takes the offered item and carries it towards the finishing line where he assumes position and looks out for whoever will finish the race first.

A black car with thin, violet highlights pulls out of the curve but a silver one with markings that make it look like it’s covered in small metal platings swerves around it in a neck-breaking stunt and leaves it behind, closely followed by Rhodey’s grey and silver machine. Bucky pulls over to the side to get entirely in front of T’Challa but Rhodey just puts his foot down, floors the gas pedal and accelerates down the finishing straight. Bucky has to correct his course by a few degrees, T’Challa starts to pull aside in a last attempt and behind them the dark red car that matches the color of Peter’s leather jacket closes in on them.

The gust of wind from Rhodey’s car passing the finishing line tousles Tony’s hair and Tony starts waving his checkered flag like a madman with a grin to match his movements. He keeps his antics up until even Jude, with a considerable distance by now, ends his last round. By that time, Rhodey has stopped his car and is climbing out of his driver’s seat under the scrutiny of a close-up that follows his every move. He is smiling from ear to ear, his chest is heaving, his breath quickened from the obvious adrenaline rush that is still carrying him. He is practically glowing from the victory.

T’Challa congratulates him to his victory before silently arguing with Bucky via stern looks which one of them is actually second and which only third – they do not come to an agreement. Peter looks like he is both disappointed in himself as well as only milliseconds away from bursting into excited jumping and dancing.

 

After a well-placed commercial break they hold a little semi-improvised ceremony next to the tracks where Rhodey as the winner receives a shiny medal that is just the kind of tacky enough to belong to reality tv. Tony places its band around Rhodey’s neck as if his best friend had just won the Olympics.

Despite the cars no longer running, a distant humming is still audible.

“Are you hearing this, too?” Peter whispers to Bucky who is frowning deeply and after a moment of silence nods as an answer.

Tony’s face is close to Rhodey’s, he is leaning in for the promised kiss for the winner. But Tony hesitates just a moment too long to keep it unnoticed. Rhodey looks at him softly, almost pleadingly but still conveys his question whether Tony is too uncomfortable with kissing him. The miniscule shake of Tony’s head makes him smile.

The strange mechanical humming gets louder.

Rhodey gently places a hand on Tony’s shoulder. Their lips are millimeters apart from each other and Tony’s eyelids flutter shut as-

A swarm of humanshaped beings – two dozen of them, at least – rises on the horizon and grows in size as they fly closer.

A worried cry from a crewmember breaks Tony and Rhodey apart just as their mouths touch. Both men whirl around and stare at the sky. Tony squints. “Are those drones?”

 A green jet of light breaks out of one of the shapes and races towards the group. T’Challa barely jumps out of its way before it hits the ground and tears a smoking hole into the asphalt.

“Everybody down!” Rhodey’s voice cuts through the uproarious noise of panicking people loudly and with natural authority.

Tony is already sprinting away from the group and heading to the filming crew that is acting like a couple of scared up chickens. He coaxes them together and even manages to calm them down enough to lead them away from the race track towards the production cars. He is arguing hotly with one of the camera men who absolutely refuses to stop filming in favor of his own safety.

Some sort of deeply ingrained instinct in Bucky has kicked in. His eyes are dark, he is slightly crouched down as if ready to launch himself into the air and he is holding his crash helmet as if it were a baton.

Another ball of green sizzling energy cuts through the air. Peter ducks away with a yelp and a faint wisp of smoke rises from the charred ends of his hair. “Aw, man!”

Rhodey calls for Tony who hastens back to the remaining group, unzipping his jacket on the way. Bright blue light shines dimly through the shirt’s fabric underneath and the sole stubborn cameraman captures the first suit-up of the bleeding edge armor that gets broadcasted.  
“Yours is on the way,” Iron Man’s distorted voice informs Rhodey who stands tall as if determination alone can protect him.

T’Challa gets up again and his clothes fall away as his Black Panther suit extends from his necklace, its purple energy field pulsating as more of the green matter splatters against it. The figures in the sky are now close enough to be recognizable. They are indeed drones. Or robots, perhaps. What kind of casual viewer is able to say? They are all of a silvery metallic shimmer and wrapped into dark green cloaks with hoods. The humming noise, by now almost oppressively loud, is emitted by their thrusters that keep them in the air. The one at the front of their triangular formation raises its hand and another ball of green energy comes into existence. A terrified Jude is frozen in place as the machine hurls the energy straight at him. Tony jumps forward, his thrusters power up with the telltale repulsor whir and with a yell muffled through his mask, he flings himself at the actor. The metallic arms pull Jude close just in time and the green energy slams into Iron Man’s back, catapulting him and his protected through the air. Iron Man manages to twist in the air, pulling Jude on top of him so it is the armor that crashes into the asphalt instead of squishy human skin.

Rhodey is looking around, a smidge of his anxiousness visible in the way his eyes search the sky for his advancing armor, but so far, no luck. Trying to chase his worries away, he focuses on what he can do right now instead. About twenty-five machines hover in the air. Even with War Machine on its way, they are vastly outnumbered. Normally, that would worry him too much. They have their fair share of firepower. But there are civilians around, so superior might is not everything. Time is of the essence in subduing their attackers. “Black Panther, do you have communications in your suit?” An affirmative answer from T’Challa. “Call the other Avengers for backup.”

With a nod, T’Challa gets to work.

Peter yells, “And tell them to bring me a gun, too!” before sprinting towards the heap that is the tangled limbs of Iron Man and Jude Law. Nobody can see whether T’Challa rolls his eyes behind his unmoving Panther mask, yet everybody somehow just knows that T’Challa rolls his eyes before relaying Peter’s message along with Rhodey’s.

Peter helps Jude up first, then Iron Man. He keeps a grip on the metal arm and leans in closer. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect him. You go up there and kick some ass.” He winks and grins and then takes off, dragging Jude with him, before Tony can even answer.

The robot at the front and center of the swarm stops several feet in front of and above the group of heroes. Tony does as suggested and joins Rhodey’s side. His helmet disappears and he just opens his mouth to ask what they want when the primary robot raises his arms in a sweeping gesture. Its mouth opens and a deep, metallically distorted voice echoes across the field.

“Your doom has arrived!”

Tony stares at the figure, his jaw slack. The light in his eyes dims as if he is swept away in a wave of internal pain. “Really?” he comments weakly, “My first vacation in eight years and this is what happens?”

“What is it with villains attacking you on race tracks, anyway?” Rhodey adds his two cent.

Tony only scoffs and raises his voice. “And who do you tin cans belong to?”

The one who just spoke rises a few inches. “I am Doctor Doom,” he declares, “Behold my power!”

Tony exchanges another baffled look with Rhodey. Then, Tony points his hands towards the ground and activates his thrusters. The red and gold armor gains height until Tony is face to face with the leader of the merry band of metal heads. “Yeah, hi. First of all, I’m not calling you that. It’s like you did not even put effort into your supervillain alias. Second, what exactly is it you’re trying to do here?” His voice grows mocking. “This race track is for closed company only today. Please come back any other day of the week if you must, or better yet, just stay at home. Drink a nice bottle of motor oil. Don’t antagonize the Avengers.”

“After I defeat the Avengers with my Doombots,” Doom ignores Tony’s groan of a flat yet horrified ‘oh my god’ without showing any reaction, “Nobody will doubt my power.”

Tony stares at him “Buddy, listen. I’m sure you’re doing great on ‘Becoming a Supervillain 101’ but please look for another graduation exam. It’s not just that I’ve got nine gorgeous guys at home and don’t want to sport a black eye for the next weeks but…c’mon, our last gig was stopping an omnipotent alien hellbent on killing half the universe and in the end, we managed. I don’t want to presume your, y’know, power level or anything, but are you sure you can compete with that?”

Doom’s harsh, joyless laughter gets a sinister edge from the undercurrent metal echo. “Why don’t you find out just how invincible you are after all, Iron Man?”

And before he can reply with a witty comeback about his own vincibility, Tony is flung to the ground with tendrils of green energy. His helmet appears and encases his head just in time before he hits the hard ground. He pushes himself up and looks at Doom. Even the voice modulator cannot keep the utter disdain out of his comment. “Ugh, I hate magic.”

 

“Pfff, and that’s on that,” Peter crows at the camera in utter delight, “So sorry, Steph. Lokes. Not in this town.”

 

Iron Man raises his palms and fires his repulsors in retaliation. The other follow suit and spring into action.

Bucky pulls back his arm, builds up momentum and hurls the crash helmet at one of the robots. He hits its head and the machine wobbles from the impact, losing height. Before it can stabilize its flight again, Bucky jumps. He propels himself into the air with the kind of strength reserved for a person enhanced with the supersoldier serum and his metal hand closes around the foot of the unsteady bot with so much force that the metal casing creaks under his grip. The additional weight is too much for the Doombot to compensate and the Winter Soldier drags it down to the ground hard and fast.

The Black Panther crouches down and jumps at the descending bot. He uses its back as a platform to jump against to get even higher and slam into another one of the robots. His vibranium claws tear through the cloth hood as if it was butter and pierce the hull with an ugly metal screech.

Down on the ground, Peter has an arm around Jude’s shoulders and jogs him across the field, looking for sufficient cover.

The majority of the Doombots focuses on the remaining person without much protection or means to attack – Rhodey, still without the War Machine armor. Iron Man turns in his direction and then, the armor shifts, morphs, grows until a thin plate of nanoparticles detaches itself and flies over to Rhodey where it wraps itself around his chest and back. The colonel conveys his thanks with a nod and a grim smile and dodges an energy blast while the piece of armor extends further to cover his body.

Ten Doombots rush forward, swarming Iron Man and overpowering him with sheer numbers. A formless extension forms at his right arm but vanishes again before taking on a recognizable shape. “Ah, shi-“ His sentence is cut off as one of the bots slams its fist against the helmet and sends him tumbling sideways. The green magic of Doom forms several thick ropes that slide around Iron Man’s ankles and wrists, tugging him down just as he tries to escape the hoard of opponents into the sky.

An ominous swooshing fills the air and a crackling ring of orange sparks appears, rapidly growing in size and width until it is big enough to cover the size of a human. Lightning crackles and the huge, muscular form of Thor, covered in only a pair of cargo shorts and flip-flops, lunges through the portal, striking down a bot mid-flight, closely followed by a joyously roaring Hulk lunching himself into the air.

An arrow zips through from the other side before Hawkeye follows his own projectile, firing another one mid-run. Both arrows hit a Doombot, one in the neck and one into the hip, and as soon as the second embeds itself into the metal, a static field springs to life between them. The machine stops in the air, stuttering and shaking from the electricity frying its circuits.

With a dull ‘thwip’ a white sticky thread attaches itself to another bot that gets pulled down when Spider-Man swings through the portal, tugging at his net and then releasing it to fling his opponent across the field.

Doctor Strange is levitating about three feet above the ground, his hands encased with brightly glowing eldritch magic. He cracks a whip of pure energy that wraps around Doom’s lower right arm and pulls with all his strength. The magic holding Iron Man down disappears immediately and he throws himself at one of the bots around him, firing off his repulsor at another. The shot tears its left arm off which does not do the slightest to deter it from closing in on him yet again.

Stephen’s magic binding on Doom disappears with a hiss. Green clouds form around Doom’s hands immediately and are flung at the Sorcerer Supreme who twists his hands in well-practiced gestures and shields himself with two orange circular sigils appearing around his hands.

Doom takes the opportunity to create an enormous, oddly colorless spear of pure magic between his hands which he throws at Iron Man who is too preoccupied with six Doombots that are trying to wrestle him to the ground to notice. A panicked scream escapes Stephen who combines another set of gestures. The air changes and reality itself splinters on its seams as the mirror dimension extends from nowhere. Time seems to slow down as the wall-like tear in reality spreads rapidly towards Iron Man, but to no avail; the spear is still faster on its way than the protective barrier the sorcerer is establishing. Distracted by Stephen’s yell, Iron Man turns around as good as possible. The mask’s eyes cannot shift but his head rears back in surprise at seeing the spear hurtling towards him. He pulls on a Doombot’s arm to get released but to no avail. The bots haven him in their iron grip and hold him in place. A deceivingly quiet whoosh cuts through the air and a round metal shield bounces against one of the robots clamoring for Tony. The machine is thrown off by the impact and an athletic figure jumps above it, catching the shield mid-air. Captain America lands lithely with bent knees on the spot the Doombot had occupied just moments ago. He slams his shield against the next bot’s head and pulls back again, lifting the shield and ducking behind it so it covers most of his body which in turn covers Iron Man who is down on one knee.

The magic spear slams against the vibranium shield with otherworldly power which, despite the shield’s impact-absorbing nature, sends Steve stumbling backwards. Another bout of magic, this time in form of a continuing wave of energy, slams against the shield but this time the first Avenger has dug his heels deeper into the ground. He almost trips over forward when the magic is suddenly cut off without a warning as the mirror dimension cuts the magic wielders off from the remaining part of the battle.

 Steve turns around and offers a hand. The gauntlet-covered red and gold hand takes hold and he pulls his team mate off the ground. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, Cap. Thanks for the timely arrival.”

“Always.”

Not for the first time in his life is Tony glad for the literal mask that conceals his face. A tsunami of emotions is wrecking his mind and he is sure he cannot keep any of them out of his expression.

The battle drowns out the noise of the War Machine suit arrivinig and landing in front of a relieved Rhodey. The red and gold plating shifts off of him and zips back across the tracks to Iron Man, seamlessly adding itself to the armor again. Relief washes over Tony. Now Rhodey is fully protected and he is back to his usual firepower. He looks at Steve and it is so laughably easy to fall back into their old fighting dynamic on the field. “Ready to demolish this scrap metal?”

Captain America smiles, chuckles almost. “Ready when you are.”

And they spring into action in tandem, Iron Man rising into the air like a graceful, deadly bird and Captain America planting himself on the ground like an insurmountable wall.

The unstoppable force and the immovable object: pit against each other, destructive; working together, devastating. Iron Man points his gauntlets down, repulsors charging, and fires a steady stream of blindingly bright energy at Captain America, who crouches down and raises his shield which reflects the repulsor beam to the side. He swivels the shield around above his head with quick and absolute precision, moving the energy beam along with it and, thus, cutting through the group of Doombots surrounding them.

On the other side of the battle field, War Machine ascends with glowing red eyes and sends a miniscule rocket at the closest opponent which bursts into pieces in an explosion.

The Avengers make even quicker work of the Doombots now, tearing the machines down bit by bit. Only Doctor Strange and Doctor Doom are isolated in their little magic bubble, flinging strands of differently colored energy in various shapes at each other.

“Can we get through to them?” Clint stares up at the two levitating men with a worried expression.

“Only one way to find out,” Tony replies flippantly and takes off. He hovers in front of the splintered wall of nothing, head tilted in curiosity. “Why can’t you make sense,” he grouses and stretches his hand to touch what looks like a triangular mirror piece reflecting his image. Whatever he expected, it is certainly a bit of a letdown when his limb simply passes through. Carefully, he pushes forward – nothing interferes, be it magical or otherwise. Encouraged by the fact that he hasn’t fallen from the sky like a lead balloon yet, Iron Man accelerates and joins Strange up in the air.

His helmet dissolves so the voice modulator does not distort the dulcet tone he adopts as he smirks at Stephen. “Hey, honey. Did you miss me?”

“Just until your distress call interrupted my reading,” Stephen shoots back without any heat in his voice, “Then I got reminded that I apparently can’t leave you alone for a day.”

“Well, it’s not like you have solved the problem already.” Tony nods at Doom and swerves around a ball of his green magic.

“It might help if you don’t keep distract me.”

“Me? Distract you? Never.” The affronted gasp is just affectedly over-the-top enough to make Stephen’s beard twitch with a smile. “But the others can help us to, so it would be neat if you could just drop this whole pocket dimension thingy or whatever you wanna call it. Splintered reality?”

“Mirror dimension,” Stephen answers pointedly as he makes a swooping gesture and the three are reunited with their usual plane of existence.

“So, a pocket dimension,” Tony insists. Stephen spares him an unimpressed glance that almost makes Tony giggle.

“Maybe you two can continue to flirt later and attack the bad guy now.” Rhodey sounds impressively unimpressed as he joins the two, Thor right behind him.

 

“Tony always flirts during combat,” Rhodey admits to the camera, “He is a talker. Always. But really? _Really_?”

 

Doom seems to grow uneasy, although it is hard to tell any emotions off of a metal mask. He realizes that his Doombots are all destroyed by now. Before the group of Avengers capable of flight can attack, he swoops up.

“This fight may be over, Avengers, but you will not always be so lucky!”

Tony’s agonized and even flatter than previously ‘are you serious’ gets generally ignored and a blinding flash makes everybody close their eyes with a grunt. When the light subsides, Doom has vanished.

 

“And that is why I hate magic,” Tony says hotly, “You cannot even give the bad guy a good chase, they are just gone in the blink of an eye and you have to wait until they show themselves again. Ugh.”

 

The enormous group of heroes gathers on the ground, chatting amongst themselves.

“Good work, everybody,” Captain America declares loudly, “Let’s gather up the civillians, do a little clean up and then we’re finished.” Agreeing mutters are his answer.

Tony waves at the one male member of his old team he hasn’t seen in his house. “Hey, Katniss! Where’s Nat?”

The archer shrugs halfheartedly. “Busy.”

“And Carol?”

“In Den Haag,” Rhodey supplies.

“Ooh, that’s today?” Rhodey nods for an answer. “Remind me to phone her. Anyway, how’s the family, birdbrain?”

“Great, I’m supposed to give you Laura’s best wishes. She can’t wait for the show.”

Tony laughs whole-heartedly at that. He is about to give a reply, no doubt something smart and witty, when a red and blue figure bounces close. “Hey, Mister Stark!”

A wide smile appears on Tony’s face and his eyes light up. “Good work, kid.” He raises his hand as if to ruffle Spider-Man’s hair before realizing that it is all hidden beneath the mask. He freezes somewhat awkwardly before slinging the arm around Spider-Man’s shoulder instead, who comfortably leans into the contact.

“Boy, I’m glad we were in time to help you.”

“What are you doing here, anyway? Wasn’t this a little impromptu?”

“I was at the compound lab when his majesty called.” With a discreet little gesture, he pointed at his web shooter to indicate he was working on more net liquid. Tony nodded in understanding.

“Well, I’m also glad. Pizza’s on me, what do you say?”

“I – uh, I don’t…”

“You always order pizza when you’re working in the lab, kid. Lemme treat you. See it as a thank you.”

Spider-Man gives in and nods happily. “Thanks, Mister Stark.”

Bruce, back to his normal-sized and -colored self, calls Spider-Man over for help with the clean-up.

Steve, helmet under his arm, shuffles around nearby, throwing not-so-covert glances at Tony who can no longer pretend to not notice. He really does not want to because he can feel the awkwardness in spades already but he walks over to the other man regardless. “I meant it. Thank you for coming here.”

“I know,” Steve smiles at him softly, “And I meant it, too. Always. I hope you know that, Tony. I’ll always come when you need someone.”

Maybe it is the adrenaline that makes Tony’s heart soften, maybe it is the familiarity of seeing Steve in the after-glow of a battle. Whatever it is, in this moment Tony cannot find it in himself to actively hate him. Years of closeness make him extend his hand without a second thought and squeeze Steve’s shoulder. “That goes both ways. But I thought you passed the shield on to Wilson. Where is he?”

“In the hospital.”

Tony grows somber. “Something serious?”

“No, not for him. He’s visiting somebody else. But I didn’t want to cut that short, it’s important to him.”

Tony exhales in relief and nods. Neither of them really knows what to say. The silence is unbearable to him. He turns to leave, Steve begins to reach out and Tony turns back again, only seeing how Steve quickly drops his half-raised arm. “Oh, and thanks for the flowers.” Tony’s tone is still warm but with a mile-wide distance in it, the kind of warm voice he uses in press conferences when he tries to hide how far he wants to recoil. It breaks Steve’s heart a little more to hear it directed at himself. Still, he manages a weak but nevertheless genuine smile.

“I’m glad you like them.”

“I always liked getting flowers from you, Steve. Even when they did not mean anything special.”

“I figured words aren’t exactly my strong suit.”

“No, they aren’t,” Tony chuckles bitterly, “But they aren’t mine, either. Not really.”

“Tony…”

Tony takes a quick step back. “I should go look how the filming crew is doing. I’ll see you around.” And he leaves before Steve can say anything else. The blond stares after him with a sad look. He closes his eyes briefly, then he breathes deeply and visibly recomposes himself.

“Thor, should I help you with that support beam?”

 

“Steve is…” Tony sighs deeply and swallows. “Steve…” A huff. “It just…it still hurts. So much. Trying to keep a grudge dulls that, makes it easier.”

 

In the end, the filming crew – all thankfully unharmed – and the contestants return to Malibu through Stephen’s portal. The other Avengers get a second portal back to New York.

“Good work out there, everybody,” the smooth voice of Loki greets the others, the trickster leaning against a wall with crossed arms, a small grin tugging at his lips, green eyes sparkling.

Stephen whirls around, pointing at him in fury. “You! Why did you not help? I thought you’re so proficient with magic, couldn’t you have sqashed that attack single-handedly?”

“Why, were you having trouble to keep up?”

“That’s not the point! You could have helped!”

“Did you need the help, Strange? Was the other sorcerer proving too powerful for you?” Loki sounds endlessly amused in his teasing.

“No!”

“Then I do not see why I should have intervened.”

“This is futile!” Stephen harrumphs and marches off, his cloak fluttering sharply as if blowing a raspberry at the frost giant who smirks at Stephen’s retreating back, eyes glittering with delighted malice.

“Loki, do you have to aggravate Stephen so much?” Thor sounds disapproving but seems unwilling to interfere too harshly.

“I absolutely must, brother,” Loki replies with a grin and leaves into the other direction, a spring in his step.

 

The evening has come and Vision is telling the camera all about the rose ceremony that is about to start, complete with a small recollection of what happened during the first episode. The nine contestants are standing in three rows, facing an empty spot and a small table covered in roses.

Once Vision finishes his small monologue, he takes a place next to the table.

One of the men behind the camera gives a hand sign and Tony enters the room. He walks over next to Vision and takes in the group of men in front of him with a wide smile.

“Good evening, guys. I hope you had as great a week as I did, even though some nutcase had to disturb our group date.”

That draws a couple of chuckles and other affirmative noises from the group.

“Great. Still, now the week is over and that means that somebody has to leave. Let’s get the obvious rose out of the way first. Rhodey!” Rhodey steps forward with a giant smile on his face, not bothering to conceal his glee in the slightest. “Sugarplum, you won the race and with that this round. Will you take this rose as your prize?”

“I will.” Rhodey takes the rose from Tony’s hand and presses his lips against his cheek as they hug. Then, he returns to the group, proudly displaying his flower.

“T’Challa. I’m curious to see where we are heading. I’d really love to keep you here. Will you accept a rose?”

“Of course.” The king of Wakanda makes his way with grace as Tony plucks another rose from the table. They exchange a hug and a kiss on the cheek as well and T’Challa returns to his place next to Rhodey.

“Peter.” Peter steps forth with his usual swagger, all smiles and charm. “I hope you’re having a good time here, so far.” Peter nods enthusiastically. “Good, because I’d like you to stay here a bit longer. Will you take this rose?”

“Heck yeah I will.” After Peter takes the flower and gets a hug and a kiss, he litters his way back to the group with several dance moves including a shoddy moonwalk that does not really work all that well; while most of the group looks somewhere else, trying to will the second-hand embarassement away, it surprisingly has something endearing about it. At least Tony seems to be entertained by Peter’s antics.

“Stephen.” The sorcerer and the engineer look into each other’s eyes and both smile unpromptedly. “We had a lovely first date and I’m looking forward to the next one. Will you take this rose?”

“Absolutely, yes.

“Bruce. I love having you back in the house and I can’t wait to spend more time with you, reconnecting, seeing where we can go from here. I hope you do to.” Bruce nods emphatically at these words. “Will you accept this rose?”

Bruce’s smile is wide and happy as he steps forward, answering with a simple ‘yes’. His hug is tight and Tony cannot stop himself from keeping the hug going on for far longer than the previous ones.

“Bucky.” The addressed separates himself from the group with a step towards Tony, quiet and with a serious expression, the polar opposite of Peter. “Our first date didn’t exactly go as planned. I know that. And I know that neither of us is to blame for that. So, I’d like to try again and see what happens then. I hope you’d like that to. Will you accept this rose?”

Bucky nods. He stays silent the entire time, his lips ghosting over Tony’s cheek in a small smile.

“Jude.” Jude looks up with hope shining in his eyes. “Jude, Jude. I…This is difficult for me.” At Tony’s words, the actor’s expression crumbles immediately into sadness. “I love having you here and I love spending time with you and talking with you. And I’d love to do all that even more. But…yeah, of course there’s a but. Today I got reminded of something. My life is dangerous. And I don’t mean in a ‘oh, every life is dangerous because you can get hit by a car when you go outside’ way, I mean in a supervillains make it their hobby to track me down and drown me in their crappy robots kind of way. When I became Iron Man, I did that to rectify past mistakes. To stop people who were doing bad things. And by doing that, I brought danger to people that are important to me, to people I love. They have arranged themselves with that by now, one of them even joined my lifestyle.” Tony weakly grins at Rhodey who snorts good-naturedly at the questionable metaphor the genius is going with. “Every single one of my friends got hurt because of me, because I am Iron Man. Everybody else here is a superhero, too. They know what that is like, they get into the same kind of danger as often as I do and they can fight back. You are a wonderful person, but…I don’t want to say you’re normal. But you’re not superpowered or enhanced. I cannot stand the thought of another person getting hurt because they are important to me but should not be involved in hero stuff. I don’t have a rose for you. I’m sorry.” Jude nods with a dejected air He gets a tight hug from Tony, who then caresses the actor’s cheek before pulling him into a quick kiss. “Thank you for coming here.”

Jude makes his farewells to the other contestants and leaves the room.

 

“Of course I’m a bit disappointed,” Jude admits to the camera with a heavy sigh, “I was really hoping to get further. We were hitting it off really well. But I can also understand where he’s coming from. I just really hope this doesn’t mean we’ll lose contact. Tony is a really great guy.”

 

Tony turns to the remaining two people without flowers so far. “Thor, Loki, that leaves a rose for either of you. Will you accept them?” The brothers talk over each other but refrain from breaking into a squabble over that. They are too busy taking the flowers and giving Tony charming smiles in return, Loki’s sharp and promising, Thor’s warm and heart melting.

Vision steps in front of the camera. “And that concludes today’s episode of ‘The Bachelor’. Tune in again next time to see who will become Tony Stark’s super sweetheart. I am Vision and I wish you a good night.”

 

* * *

 

@uptogossip: Up to date with UpToGossip! Read everything about Jude Law leaving after tonight’s episode of #btse and what project is next for the movie star! https://www.uptogossip.com/714/wh9igj

@jakemeup: Doctor Doom says #SupervillainsAreThirstyForTonyStarkToo is valid so y’all can kiss my ass! #btse

@starks-and-spangles: ALRIGHT, WHO DO I HAVE TO KILL TO GET CAP BACK ON THE SHOW?? OH MY GOOOOOOOOSH THE WAY HE LOOKED AT TONY </3

@riririlliams: Working on an analysis video about those #Doom bots right now! #btse #DoctorDoom #AvengersVsDoom

@hawkeyesleftbuttcheek: That entrance tho! Where was the epic music @abc_official?? That shit deserves at least an Alan Silvestri score!!! #btse #Avengers #AvengersVsDoom

@guyinthechair: #SpiderMan was so awesome!! #btse

                        @peteparker replied: I bet the Bugle’s gonna try and spin his appearance into a bad thing as always…

                                                          @establishmess replied: The Bugle is literal trash so who gives a fuck.

@sweetestsummerchild: Loki pretending to be above all these squabbles but actually being the biggest conspirator is such a mood #btse

@cori_j: Not to be horny on main but Bucky’s metal arm can wreck me any time #btse

@marvellous_kamkha: Cap rushing to Iron Man’s aid despite having lost already? Fan. Fic. Material. #btse

@thirdskywalker: Y’all are seriously sleeping on Rhodey, it’s incredible! My man! #btse #WarMachineRocks

@inkandpaper: I know I sound like a broken record but @tonystark’s current armor is so fucknjfing badass #btse

                       @tonystark reblogged this post

                            @inkandpaper replied: I??? am DYING RN??!? [IMAGE ATTATCHED]

@WHiH: BREAKING NEWS Latveria issues international arrest warrant for Victor van Doom https://news.whih.com/news/d8f84j90n

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it was nice to have Jude Law there while it lasted... :c I feel bad for making him leave. So does Tony, by the way. But somebody had to go, so the cameo it was. Some little facts:  
> -None of the social media nicknames are supposed to stand for existing people. I haven't said that before, so it's high time. If I have used existing usernames, it is entirely unintentional.  
> -I have, however, sneaked several Marvel characters in there (not only MCU but comics). I hope those who notice them like the little cameos.  
> -With 'Not in this town' Peter quotes Footlose  
> -In Den Haag, the International Court of Justice (the court of the UN) is seated. Carol is there to give a statement in a case.  
> -It is an absolute nightmare for me because when writing 'Peter' in relation to Marvel stuff, I usually think about Peter Parker. Here, it is of course Quill. (Peter the Younger will, however, make an appearance as himself, not only as his alter ego, I promise.) This is the literal definition of hell :'D  
> -I lost the overview of how well the screen time for the characters is balanced and I know some got the short end of the stick until now. I will try to change that. Nobody will leave without having been on a date. I promise that, at least. So, I am sorry if your absolute favourite may have been a little shoved to the side, so far and hope you don't mind or at least can enjoy the story anyway.
> 
> I sincerely hope that you won't have to wait that long again for the next update and will do my best to prevent it. Let's call it therapeutic writing for the Endgame trailer...


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